Darkness and Despair
by Buckhunter The Race Horse
Summary: Torture fic- implied rape. After an attack by the Royal Navy, Captain Jack Sparrow is injured and captured. The captain of the ship transporting him to Port Royal is well known for torture of the harshest kind. Living in constant fear, Jack needs to find both his voice and his old self. Who'll be there to remind who he really is? Sparrabeth. Nothing post COTBP exists.
1. Prologue

**OptimusPrime2017 presents to you,**

**A Pirates of the Caribbean Fanfiction:**

**Darkness And Despair**

**Prologue:**

"Cap'n, sails on the horizon!" The _Black Pearl_'s first mate, a porky Irish man, called from the bow of the ship. He had graying hair and sideburns. Lines on his face suggested that he smiled quite a bit. But he wasn't now. His brow was creased with worry as he glanced across the dark deck of the magnificent vessel.

At the helm stood a very unique character. The man had long, dark dreadlocks with various beads and trinkets weaved among them and in his twin braided beard. A red bandanna held them all in their place, out of the way. A worn, black tricorn hat sat atop his head. He wore an off-white shirt, a black vest atop of it. Various belts and sashes crossed his torso and his thin waist. He wore dark brown trousers, lighter brown boots folded over at his knees. Several objects hung from his belt, including a pistol, a baldric containing a sword, and a box shaped item- a shut compass. It was this man who answered the first mate's warning call. His deep, rich voice rang through the air. "How many?" The words were calm, yet high in volume. He didn't seem worried about the threat yet.

"Four, sir!" An adolescent's voice came from high up in the crow's nest. The boy's figure was hard to make out from down below, but he had long brown hair. "Royal Navy! A schooner, brig, and two frigates!"

"Oh, bloody 'ell." The captain frowned, momentary worry and fear clouding his features. Then they were replaced by disbelief. "Gibbs, is the lad right?"

"Aye, sir!" The porky-built first mate, Joshamee Gibbs, shouted across the ship.

"Captain, they've spotted us!" The boy in the crow's nest yelled down to him. "They've prepared their cannons!"

The captain visibly stiffened, jaw clenching for a moment. Then he began shouting out orders. "All hands, prepare the cannons! Hoist the colors! Get the _Pearl _ready for battle!"

Men jumped up from scrubbing the deck and came out from below. They were in a state of panic, having overheard the numbers of the enemy. They scrambled to do as their captain commanded, some trembling too much to load muskets. Some looked at their captain as if he'd gone mad- many upon the seas thought he had, not that it wasn't half true. Within a minute, the Jolly Roger was up, whipping in the wind. Another minute and the cannons would be ready.

Gibbs had made his way over to the helm. "Jack, do ye really plan on fightin' them?"

"It's _Captain _Jack Sparrow to ye, Gibbs." The captain corrected arrogantly. "And, aye, if we 'ave to, that's what we will do."

"But, Cap'n, it's four against one!" The first mate protested.

"I know that." Sparrow told him grimly. He could see the approaching ships pretty well now. They were headed towards the _Black Pearl_, the schooner speeding ahead. It was mighty close, likely to reach them within the minute. "Prepare to shoot down that schooner!"

A couple of long moments passed by before cannon fire rocketed through the air. A smoky haze hovered around the _Pearl _as her cannons worked. Screams of pain and the splintering of wood came from the direction of the schooner. The voice of a man came, clearly one of the Navy trying to bargain for his life. The sound of bubbling water was all that could be heard for a minute longer, before silence took over.

The schooner had sunk.

"Gibbs, damage report." The _Pearl_'s captain demanded.

"Minor damage, Cap'n." The first mate answered. "No casualties."

"Good." Sparrow looked at the brig and two frigates, trying to form a plan. "Reckon if we sail through them, they'll shoot each other?"

"Aye, maybe." Gibbs answered his question. "But, Cap'n-"

"Shut it." He growled. "I know what I'm doin', mate." A tense silence fell over the _Black Pearl_ as the crew waited nervously. The enemy ships continued to sail straight for them, and Captain Sparrow didn't alter their course either. He turned to Gibbs. "Are the cannons ready?"

"Aye."

"Good. We're goin' to need 'em."

"I don't doubt it."

"Prepare to fire!" Sparrow ordered the crew, seeing that the enemy ships were closing in. Within moments, they were within firing range and he let out the command they'd all been waiting for. "Fire!"

The loud shots rang through the air. Screams of pain from the _Pearl _and the attackers sounded. Splintering would could be heard amongst the chaos too. The _Black Pearl _trembled with each successful hit to her frame. She made it through the ships, and they had to take the extra time to turn around to give chase.

The _Pearl_'s captain nodded to his first mate. "Throw over some of the barrels."

"Aye, aye, Cap'n!" Gibbs turned to the stern of the ship, where several barrels full of gunpowder sat in waiting. He grabbed a couple and threw them over the back of the ship.

Sparrow risked a glance back at the enemies. He smirked as one of the frigates was unable to swerve one of the barrels and hit it. An explosion sounded and a whole appeared in the hull. The enemy frigate began sinking, long boats full of men dropping off the side and heading for the brig.

He began twisting the wheel hard to the left, throwing all of his weight into the spin. Within moments they had turned so that the cannons faced the brig. "Focus on the brig!"

The brig, those men had been helping the frigate's survivors, was unprepared for the force of the _Pearl_'s cannons. Screams erupted and men jumped ship to join the frigate's survivors in their boats. The brig's main mast crumbled to the deck, tipping over port side and smashing the railing as it went overboard. A well placed cannonball hit the hull of the brig at the waterline and water began flooding in.

Sparrow knew that the brig was done for and turned the ship toward the remaining frigate. The frigate was ready. He could see that the men were eager to fight them. A bad feeling overcame him then, but he pushed it aside. They'd taken care of three ships without major damage, why couldn't they take care of this last one?

"Orders, Cap'n?" Gibbs came up to his side.

"Weaken that frigate enough to board her." He told him.

The first mate went off to repeat the orders to the crew. The sounds of the men reloading the cannons reassured the captain, clearing the tension from his mind. The two ships grew nearer to each other. Within a few moments, they were side by side, cannons firing into the opponent's ship with loud bangs. The _Pearl _groaned and creaked beneath her crew's feet and worry creased the captain's brow. "Hold on jus' a little longer…"

"Cap'n, she's ready for boardin'!" An excited cry came from down on the deck.

"Thank bloody God." Sparrow muttered under his breath in relief. He rose his voice to call back. "Throw the boardin' hooks!"

The men threw long ropes that had hooks attached to the end. Most of them wrapped around the frigate's railing, pulling her towards the _Pearl_. Once they were within range, the pirate captain grabbed a rope and swung across. His crew followed suite.

Sparrow landed aboard the frigate, drawing his cutlass. He engaged with several Navy men at once, parrying their blows with ease. His footwork as he fought was mastered and he moved with confidence. He quickly dispatched the men, turning to make his way to the ship's helm with hopes of catching the captain off guard.

He parried a blade aimed for his neck, whipping around so fast that he slashed the attacker's torso before he could blink. In his peripheral view, he spotted a fist flying towards his face. He ducked and the man tripped over him, head hitting the deck and knocking himself unconscious. The _Pearl_'s captain smirked in amusement, turning to continue to rest of the journey to the helm. He reached it, spotting a more elaborately dressed Navy man- an officer, likely the captain.

Sparrow's gaze met that of the Navy captain's. The man turned and took the few steps needed to reach him, blade drawn. He thrust it forward at Sparrow, who parried and swiped at the man's legs. Overconfident, the pirate didn't expect the force of the next blow. His sword nearly slipped from his grasp as he pushed back against the other's sword.

"Filthy pirate." The man growled.

With a look of mock offense, the _Pearl_'s captain kicked the Navy man's leg out from underneath him. The man collapsed forward, knocking Sparrow over as well as he collapsed atop of him. But he still had a good hold on his sword. He flipped it around so it was in stabbing position. The pirate's eyes widened and he struggled to free himself, but to no avail.

The blade pierced the stretch of skin that connected his neck and right shoulder. Blood splattered everywhere, an overwhelming pain filled his neck and shoulder. A loud whimpering grunt noise escaped him as the Navy officer twisted the metal, causing more damage than necessary. His right hand released his own sword, his left struggling to grab the one in his body.

"Gibbs!" He hoarsely called out, desperate with pain.

"Cap'n!" His first mate called back from somewhere within the chaos.

Sparrow put all of his strength into his legs, kicking the Navy man in the groin and effectively knocking him off. He tried to pull the sword free, but his body was too weak. He tried to sit up, but felt light headed and collapsed back to the deck. He spotted his first mate rushing up the stairs of the quarter deck. The man quickly slammed the hilt of his sword into the Navy captain's head, effectively knocking him completely unconscious.

"Gibbs…" The _Pearl_'s captain gasped out. "Pull the sword out."

"But, Ja-"

"_Now!_"

"A-aye, sir!" Gibbs consented.

The older man gripped the hilt of the weapon and gave a tug as gentle as one could with a sword. Sparrow's face contorted in pain as the sword slid from his body. He heard it drop to the deck and he glanced to the injured area. The whole right shoulder and most of the right side of the collar were stained red by his blood. He could see the reddish tint to the wood beneath him too.

He forced himself to sit up, stretching his left arm across his body to grab his sword. He didn't want to strain his injured right arm. With the help of his first mate, he got to his feet.

The battle had been restrained to the main deck. Bodies- both pirate and Navy- littered the bloodied planks. The pirates seemed to be cornered on the side of the ship closest to the _Pearl_. Some seemed determined on pushing forward, despite the situation. They were battered and most of them injured, fear alighting their eyes. Sparrow frowned.

"Tell the crew to retreat, back to the _Pearl_." He muttered to his companion.

"...Aye." Gibbs agreed after taking in the sight. He drew his sword and raced down from the quarter deck, the words "Retreat to the _Pearl_!" filling the air as he went.

Sparrow followed him, favoring his right arm. The two men cut and hacked their way through Navy men, clearing a safe route back to the _Black Pearl _for their crew. The pirates caught on immediately, and took said route back to their own ship, boarding her with gratefullness. The pirate captain nodded to hs first mate, telling him to follow suite. Gibbs obeyed, fending off soldiers as he did.

Now, only one pirate remained on the Navy ship. Captain Sparrow fought them off- they were worse in combat than the pirates themselves- with ease. The only problem was the fact that he was hopelessly outnumbered.

He slashed and hacked at them wildly, a desperate ferociousness that was his life. But it was pointless, when he couldn't defend each side of himself at once. An unseen sword slashed at him from behind, cutting into his back. All of his strength dissipated and he collapsed to his knees with a cry of pain, sword leaving his hand. He felt cool metal against his neck and he knew that there was no escape.

"Cap'n!" Gibbs shouted from aboard the _Pearl_, clearly worried.

Sparrow mustered the strongest voice he could. "Go!"

"We're not leavin' without-"

"Do it! Go! Get out of 'ere, Mr. Gibbs!"

"But, Cap'n-" The _Pearl_'s first mate tried to protest.

Something metal slammed into the pirate captain's forehead _hard_ and he gasped, pain blinding him.

"Stop talking to your captain, or we kill him." Sparrow's captor, most likely the first mate of the Navy ship, demanded. "Take what's left of your crew and leave now, or you will be forced to come with us to Port Royal."

The _Pearl_'s crew froze, hesitating.

"What 'bout our cap'n?" Gibbs called across to the Navy officer. "Can we 'ave him back?"

"No. Your captain is what we came for. He is what we will take." The man retorted.

Another slam to the pirate's face had his crew grimace, imagining the pain themselves. Sparrow was sure he had some dark bruises forming, if not dents in his skull. He felt more than a little light headed. The ground spun- everything he could see spun wildly.

"Blood 'ell, Gibbs, listen to him!" He snarled through the pain.

Another hard strike to the head for talking out of term had Sparrow laying unconscious on the deck of the ship. His crew stood motionless, watching with shock. A few men looked up to Gibbs hopefully, but the poor man was dumbstruck. The sound of the Navy men loading their cannons snapped him out of his daze.

"Cap'n's right…" He muttered quietly.

"Sir?" The cabin boy, who'd previously been in the crow's nest, had come down. His voice was tinted with uncertainty, and a hint of fear. "What do we do?"

"We 'ave to leave 'ere." The first mate decided.

"But what about the captain?" The lad asked, frowning in concern for the unconscious man.

"What's your name, lad?"

"Stiles Karver, sir."

"Don't worry, Mr. Karver. Cap'n Jack'll be alright. Always is. We'll repair the _Pearl _an' come back for him if he 'asn't already escaped by then." Gibbs promised.

Young Karver nodded. "...What do you command, sir?"

The man smiled at the lad's change of spirit. "Full sail! Cotton, at the helm!"

**A/N: As I was writing this, I began to like the cabin boy as a character. I decided to name him so that I can possibly make a solo story for him in the near future. **

**Disclaimer: Speaking of characters, I only own the plot and young Stiles Karver. Everyone and everything else belongs to Disney.**

**Summary: Torture fic- implied rape. After a failed plan, Captain Jack Sparrow ends up in the hands of the Royal Navy once again. However, this time, the crew seems intent on making his life a living hell. Now on a ship back to Port Royal, he needs two things; to contact his crew for a rescue mission and to keep his sanity. Will he be rescued before he's too far gone?**


	2. Ch1: Wilford Hampton

**Disclaimer: I only own Stiles Karver, the Navy captain- Wilford Hampton, and the **_**HMS Lady Rose**_**. Everything else belongs to Disney and Pirates of the Caribbean.**

**A/N: I decided to give Stiles a bigger role in this story. His character does have quite a lot of potential and I couldn't stop thinking about it.**

**Chapter One:**

When Jack Sparrow woke up, he was completely alone. An ache in his head similar to that of a migraine made him keep his eyes shut. His face, back, his shoulder, and neck hurt...a lot. His mind foggy, he couldn't remember what exactly had happened. All he could remember was seeing Navy ships and shouting at Gibbs to leave.

He finally opened his eyes. Thankfully, in this dank location, not much light of any sort was provided and his eyes were able to adjust quickly. He sat up and leaned against..._bars? _He frowned, turning around. He could see the hard, dark iron of the bars. He whipped his head around, worry creasing his brow. That's when he found that he was completely surrounded by the bars. Upon squinting to see the darker corners of the area, he discovered that he was in the brig of a ship. His frown deepened. _How could I let this happen?_

Then it came back to him; how four Navy ships had been spotted by the cabin boy; how they sunk three of the four with relative ease; how the boarded the last ship, a frigate. Then he remembered how he'd been injured and that the crew was trapped when he finally got back up, courtesy of Gibbs. He'd told the older man to have them retreat back to the _Black Pearl_. He'd assisted the crew by clearing a path back to their own ship, only to get cut from behind and fall to his knees. He and Gibbs had argued over leaving him behind. Then an officer of the Navy ship had violently hit the pirate captain several times- to the point of unconsciousness- to convince the crew to leave.

"Ah, that's right…" Jack mumbled to himself. "Bloody Navy made me look like a fool." He then heard a shuffling in one of the dark corners of the brig. "Who's there?" His voice was sharp.

"It's only me, Uncle Jack." The voice of a familiar youth came.

"Stiles...ye shouldn't be 'ere."

"Isn't that why they call it a stowaway?"

The pirate captain sighed. "Why are ye 'ere? Actually, _how _did ye get 'ere?"

"I tricked Gibbs into thinking I'd help leave you behind. Jumped ship and latched onto the back of this one. Climbed aboard while the crew wasn't looking." Young Stiles Karver told him, stepping from the shadows. He was the _Pearl_'s cabin boy. His long brown hair reached just past shoulder length. His green eyes stood out from his tanned complexion and dark hair. He wore what most pirates wore; an off-white shirt, brown trousers, brown boots that folded at the knees, and a baldric strapped around his waist, a sword sitting untouched in the sheath. "As for why I'm here, I'm not letting any Navy bastards take my uncle- at least not alone."

"Blood 'ell...Jacob's gonna kill me if anythin' happens to ye." Jack rubbed his right temple with his hand. "And I don't want to die to me own half brother."

"Don't worry 'bout him, Uncle. He'd never kill you." The pirate's nephew promised.

"There's a lot 'bout your father that ye don't know." He countered.

"Same 'bout you, I reckon." The boy consented in a quiet tone.

The boy's uncle smirked. "Nobody knows half of anythin' 'bout me, Stiles. Trust me, not even ol' Jake Karver. Not even Teague himself."

"Is that a good thing?"

"T'is for me."

Stiles grinned, amused by the pirate. Several pairs of footsteps sounded loudly on the stairs and his grin transformed into a look of horror. He met his uncle's gaze, terrified.

"What do I do?" He whispered nervously.

The pirate's face was deadly serious when he replied. "_Hide_."

The adolescent scrambled back to his dark corner, vanishing and blending in to the darkness. Jack's head snapped up as several Navy men burst into the brig. The four men were armed, but their weapons weren't drawn.

One stalked right up to the bars. "Who were you talking to?"

_Oh, bloody 'ell..._He pulled a false cheery smile in greeting. "No one."

"You were talking to someone. Tell us to lessen your punishment, _pirate_." The soldier offered.

He cringed at the spite in the man's last word, frowning for a mere moment. "I was talkin' to meself. Crazy, eh? I tend to do it quite a lot."

"Then explain that trail of blood." The man ordered smugly.

"What trail of blood?" Jack glanced down and paled.

A red liquid stained the wooden planks of the brig's flooring, leading towards the hiding place of the young cabin boy, Karver. He wasn't sure if he was more worried that the lad had given himself away or that he was injured. Both weren't exactly good.

The Navy officer, whom he'd now recognized as the first mate, had clearly seen his reaction, as he turned to his men. "Grab the stowaway and bring him here."

"Right away, sir." One of the subordinate men responded.

The three men approached the dark corner of the brig. They vanished into the darkness. Sounds of struggling came, a few grunts from the men accompanying them. Several high pitched, human whimpers reached Jack's ears too, and he grew worried. Moments later, the men returned to the lit area of the brig, two of them dragging a scratched up Stiles Karver between them.

"I'm sorry." The youth glanced to his uncle.

The older man opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by the Navy officer. "You're only a boy." He sounded mildly shocked.

"...Yes, sir." The adolescent whispered quietly, shamefully looking anywhere but the men.

"What's your name?" The same man asked. Then his voice grew stern for a moment. "And don't lie to me."

The young man desperately looked to the pirate captain, who nodded. _Do it, Stiles._

"Stiles Karver, sir." He admitted.

_That's a good lad_.

"Well, young Mr. Karver, I'm afraid that we'll have to lock you up with Sparrow here, seeing as you're clearly trying to help him in some form." The soldier told him.

"I understand, sir." Stiles assured him.

"Very well." The Navy officer nodded to the two men holding the lad, as he opened up the cell.

Jack gazed at the open cell door. He longed to make a break out of the cell and bolt up the stairs, but he told himself that he was in no physical condition to do so, nor was this the opportune moment. His nephew entered the cell and the door closed behind him. The four Navy soldiers turned and went back up the stairs, footsteps fading.

The adolescent sat down on the wooden boards, stretching his right leg. He turned it calf up, examining a red stain where the breeches tore. He grimaced.

"Wha' happened?" His uncle asked him.

"Someone's sword caught on my leg during the battle, when they were fighting someone else." Stiles explained, pulling up his pant leg to further examine the cut.

"'S not deep, is it?" Jack wanted to be sure it'd stop bleeding on its own.

"No, but it sure as hell hurts." He told him, using his sleeve to wipe the blood away from his wound. "I shoulda known it'd leave a trail. Sorry, Uncle Jack."

"What for? Gettin' caught?" He chuckled. "That was inevitable the moment ye stepped foot on the ship, Stiles."

"I guess it was." Young Karver agreed, pulling his pant leg down over the wound. "Haven't had the time to ask yet, but how are you feeling?"

"Sore, but 'right enough." The boy's uncle answered, leaning back against the metal bars.

"You sure?" He asked, before pointing out,"Those are some pretty dark bruises, y'know."

"Bruises don't kill." He smirked, amused. "They'll heal up on their own."

"Eventually."

"Aye, eventually."

"How long you reckon 'till we get to Port Royal, Uncle Jack?" Stiles asked, crawling over to a hole the size of an eye in the ship's wooden hull.

"Nine days with good weather, eleven with a storm." Jack replied, after pondering it a moment. "The _Pearl _could make the trip in seven."

"Bet she could in six." The youth told him.

The pirate captain chuckled. "Now that's a bit of a stretch, even for my ship."

"I guess so."

Silence fell over nephew and uncle. The younger of the two finally sat down, apparently seeing nothing of interest through his little eyehole in the hull. The older one drummed the fingers of his left hand on the planks beneath him thoughtfully, while his right arm sat limply on his lap.

He'd never admit it to his nephew, but he had a bad feeling about being a prisoner aboard this ship. Just the demeanor of how they'd handled him up on the deck gave him a sense of worry. Something told him that these weren't just any men of the Royal Navy.

"What's the name of this ship?" He asked quietly, still thinking to himself.

He could feel Stiles' gaze on him. "We're aboard the _HMS Lady Rose_."

"_Lady Rose_? Ye're sure?"

A small nod. "Positive."

"Oh bloody 'ell…" Panic was slowly growing in the experience pirate captain. "This isn't good...this isn't good at all. Ye should've stayed on the _Pearl_."

"Why?"

No answer.

"Uncle Jack, what's wrong?"

"The _HMS Lady Rose_\- _this _ship- is well known for torturin' her prisoners." Jack answered, words coming out a little too quickly. "It's only a matter of time before the crew grabs one of us an' takes us to a bloody torture room."

"You seem up to date on the legends of this ship, Mr. Sparrow." A voice came from outside the cell.

The pirate captain froze, jaw clenching tightly. He met his nephew's gaze and whispered,"Don't do anythin' stupid." He turned around to face the three Navy soldiers, one of them being the captain. He offered a slight, false smile. "So I am. What do I owe ye the pleasure of visitin' our dark prison?"

"I think you already know the answer to that." The captain, the man who had spoken, answered. Then he introduced himself. "Wilford Hampton of the Royal Navy, captain of the _HMS Lady Rose_. Welcome aboard my vessel." A wicked smile tugged his lips upward.

"Happy to be 'ere." Jack lied through his teeth.

"Then you won't mind being the first to be greeted by our hospitality."

"Er...I'd rather the two of us stay 'ere."

Hampton's eyes flashed dangerously, the wicked smile growing. "It's not a choice."

_Stall for time_. "Is it not?"

"No."

"Y'know, Captain Hampton, t'isn't a very kind way to treat your prisoners- er, guests." He frowned at him.

"You are criminals of His Majesty's crown, are you not?" The man's brow furrowed in mild frustration.

"Ah, yes, but ye haven't realized somethin' yet, mate." It was the pirate's turn to smirk. "Your treatment to your prisoners- torture, I may say- makes ye no better than I am. They might 's well hang ye right beside us."

"Enough of this nonsense!" The Navy captain snapped angrily. He turned to his men. "Bring Sparrow along to the chamber. I will meet you there."

_Great, now it's sure to be worse 'cause I made him angry...Jack, you're an idiot. Not like I was wrong though. _Jack scolded himself mentally as he watched Hampton stalk down another set of stairs. "Bugger…"

The cell door creaked open.

"Uncle Jack?" Stiles' voice was quiet, tinted with fear and uncertainty.

"It'll be alright, Stiles. Don't worry." The pirate captain tried to assure him, as the two Navy men hauled him to his feet. He winced at the mistreatment of his right arm. "I'll be back."

"You'll be alright?" He asked, voice half hopeful and half fearful.

The youth's uncle offered a small smile, almost a smirk. "I'm Cap'n Jack Sparrow. I'm always alright."

The adolescent's lips twitch upward ever so slightly. "Good luck, Uncle."


	3. Ch2: The Captain

**Disclaimer: I only own Stiles Karver, the Navy captain- Wilford Hampton, and the **_**HMS Lady Rose**_**. Everything else belongs to Disney and Pirates of the Caribbean. If it belonged to me, this wouldn't be **_**fan**_**fiction.**

**A/N: This chapter was originally supposed to be part of the last one, but it would be too long if I kept it there. **

**Chapter Two:**

Jack was led from the cell- which was locked to prevent Stiles from escaping- and dragged down the dark staircase in which Captain Hampton had gone. A door, just like the iron barred one to the cell, awaited them at the bottom. It was open already. He was pulled inside, the barred door locked behind him my no one other than Hampton himself.

The torture chamber smelled of death and decay. Looked like it too. It was almost pitch black, save the few candles around the room. The walls, floor, and ceiling were tinted red with blood of past victims. Rotting bodies sat in the darkened corners, out of the way, flies buzzing around them. A wooden table occupied the center of the room, various other devices scattered about. There were chains hanging from the ceiling to the right of the table, matching chains resting on the floor. The pirate captain wrinkled his nose to avoid gagging. He felt slightly nauseous. _What have I gotten myself into?_

He watched Hampton exchange a few words with a masked man- an executioner.

"Y'know, ye need me alive to get the reward for capturin' me, right?" Jack reminded them, anxiety getting the best of him.

"Makes it all the more fun. You'll be in so much pain when we're done, Sparrow, that you'll wish we'd killed you anyway." The Navy captain told him.

He swallowed nervously.

"Orders, sir?" One of the Navy escorts asked.

"Lock us in, and take position at the top of the stairs." Hampton ordered. "I'll let you know when we're through- then take him back to young Karver."

The pirate captain watched the two soldiers leave, longing to follow them out of this unpleasant place. The lock of the door sounded and the men vanished up the stairs, out of sight. Now he was left with just Hampton and the executioner.

"Ye really should've kept those guards in 'ere." Jack told them.

"Why is that?" Hampton asked, frowning at him.

"Well,"He began wandering the dank room as he spoke,"I really could grab anythin' layin' 'round 'ere and hit ye with it, if I so desired." He bent down, picking up the femur of a human skeleton. He tossed one end, testing the weight as if he'd swing it at someone. He frowned at it, tossing it aside. "Unfortunately, I don't wish to do so. But what I _do _wish is to offer ye somethin' in exchange that neither the lad nor I shall come to be harmed b'fore arrival in Port Royal."

"And what is it that you are offering to do for us?"

"We'll help 's part of your crew 'till we make port."

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"And why not?"

"Because I refuse to work with pirates." Hampton answered. He nodded to someone behind Jack. "Lash him up- right arm first."

As he'd been attempting to negotiate with the Navy captain, he hadn't realized he'd walked and stopped directly in front of the executioner. He leapt forward, bowling Hampton over. The man let out a startled cry. The pirate was at the complete other side of the room by the time he got up.

"An' seein' as I refuse to be tortured, we're at a stalemate, mate." Jack pointed out, a lazy smirk making his lips curl in amusement.

"This isn't chess, Sparrow!" Hampton growled dangerously.

"No, t'isn't. Ye're right." He agreed. "But, so am I. Ye can't catch me, an' I can't leave."

"So what's it gonna be then?" The Navy captain asked.

"I can, an' am perfectly willin' to, stand right 'ere for the entirety of the voyage." He replied.

"You'll die of thirst before then." The other man pointed out smugly.

"Then I best hope me crew comes soon, eh?" The pirate said after a moment. "'Sides, I'd prefer dyin' of thirst than at your hand, torturous swine."

"Oh, no, you won't die by _my _hand. Not even his." He gestured to his executioner. "You'll die with a short drop and a sudden stop at the gallows of Fort Charles, back in Port Royal." He seemed impatient. "Now, Sparrow, I'll be back in no more than a moment. I expect you'll be waiting right there for me?"

"Of course." He smirked with false enthusiasm. "Ye can count on it, mate."

"Very well." Hampton turned to the executioner. "Watch him for just a moment."

"Of course, sir." The man spoke for the first time.

The captain turned and went to the cell door, pulling out his own set of keys. He unlocked the door and exited, locking it behind him as he went up the stairs. His voice was easily heard from down in the torture chamber. "I want you two to assist in catching Sparrow. He's being rather difficult."

A moment later, the door unlocked and the three men returned to the dark room, locking the barred door shut. The two guards approached the loose prisoner, muskets pointing toward him. He watched them warily, trying to devise a plan of escape. It was obvious that he'd talked Hampton out of patience, so negotiating was no longer an option. At least he'd stalled for time.

The executioner came slower, behind the two men. Jack could see no escape route. His jaw set tightly and his brow creased as he thought. He slowly crouched, all the while keeping his eyes on his attackers. His fingers found the femur he'd tossed and he gripped it tightly, standing back up fully. It was better than nothing.

The first man his musket at him, in an attempt to prod him with the bayonet beside the barrel. The pirate whacked it aside with the bone he held, watching it nearly fly from the man's grasp. He slammed the second one aside. Then he gripped his makeshift weapon with both hands and held it up to block the executioner's axe. He moved aside just as the bone snapped in half under the pressure of the metal weapon. He tossed the two halves aside, finding them useless now.

Hampton was impatient. "Shoot him, you idiots!"

"I thought ye _weren't _goin' to kill me!" Jack called to him, whilst dodging musket shots.

Distracted with the two guards, the pirate didn't notice the executioner approaching him. As he turned to his right, his face was met _hard _with the flat of the axe blade. He was thrown onto his back, vision spotted with black spots, groaning. He attempted to get back up, but found himself too disoriented to do so properly when he faceplanted back on the wooden planks. He held his right temple in his left hand, his right hand outstretched beside him.

"Remove his shirt and hang him up with the ceiling chains. Don't forget to secure his legs too." Hampton ordered. "And, guards, leave us- return to guarding the stairs."

Jack felt the executioner tear the clothing from his upper body. He was dragged to the middle of the room. He was lifted up by his right wrist, straining the shoulder. He gasped lightly in pain. He felt the cool metal cuff clamp around it. His other arm was strung up, then his ankles secured by the floor chains. All the while, he didn't struggle, knowing it'd do him no good at all.

"Start with the cat o' nine." The _Lady Rose_'s captain demanded.

The pirate prisoner opened his mouth to retort, but thought better of it and clenched his teeth in preparation for the oncoming blows. He winced as he heard the crack of the whip as the executioner pulled it out and prepared to strike. _Crack! _Pain rippled through his back. Refusing to give up his pride easily, he didn't cry out. As he felt the blood trickling out of the new welts, he bit his lip. He tasted the salt of his blood as the second strike landed and he bit his lip harder. _Crack! Crack! Crack!_

The pain slowly spread as more strikes hit their target. He stayed silent, unwilling to give in. He could feel the heat in his raw back, and he could see the blood pool beneath him on the wood. The pain was intense and his shoulders sagged, but he refused to let even a gasp escape him. His lip throbbed between his teeth.

His vision was black from trauma, his open eyes seeing nothing. He couldn't hear anything either- the only sense that worked was touch and feeling, which even that was starting to fade. He didn't hear the order for the executioner to switch to a steel pipe. He felt it collide with his back, jolting his whole body forward. It hit repeatedly, and he was sure that if anything of his back remained that it would be bruised beyond recognition.

_Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! _A slurping, _plash _like noise accompanied it when the metal hit a stream of blood.

All of Jack's senses were numb by the time his face collided with the pool of his own blood on the floor. He lay there for a few minutes before his hearing began to return, sight not long after. He still could not feel anything, the pain beyond being painful now. He weakly used his arms to support his upper body, his right moving up to wipe blood from the side of his face that had been in the pool of blood.

A hoarse laugh that didn't sound like his own escaped him. His voice sounded like someone recently back from the dead. "Do I look like 'ell yet? 'Cause I don't feel anythin' at all."

Hampton met his gaze, an almost curious look in his eyes. "Your back looks like a raw piece of meat, Sparrow."

"Wonderful." He commented sarcastically, clearing his throat. His voice sounded more like himself, except for the hopeful tone when he asked,"Is it my turn to hit ye with a steel pole?"

The other man snorted in bemusement. "Your spirit doesn't break as easily as your body, does it?"

"Thank goodness for that, or I'd 'ave given up on livin' a long time ago." The pirate admitted.

As he began to get to his feet, the sense of touch and feeling returned to him. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself up anyway. His legs shook, but he walked around a bit anyway, waking up the muscles of his knees. He paused at the barred door, longingly looking up the stairs. Sure enough, the guards were still there. He turned back to the room. The executioner, clothing and mask now stained red, hadn't moved. Hampton was watching the pirate with an odd curiosity, distant thoughtfulness accompanying it.

"Wha's so interestin', mate?" Jack asked, words slurring together as he hid his pain.

Instead of answering, the other man turned to the executioner. "You may leave. Return in twenty minutes, the boy is next."

"Ye are _not _touchin' that boy!" Rage coursed through the pirate, eyes darkening.

The executioner left, clearly not wanting to be involved with the situation about to occur.

Hampton stalked up to the prisoner so that they were nearly nose to nose. He smugly asked,"And who's going to stop me from doing so? You?"

Instead of answering, the _Pearl_'s captain shoved the other man back. Hampton drew his sword, growling. The pirate cowered back a bit, scanning for a weapon. He spotted and snatched up a metal rod. The Navy man swung his sword, but the rod blocked it. Metal clanged against metal as Jack fought back.

His movements grew slower as pain and exhaustion tugged at him. The flat of Hampton's blade slapped his wrist and he unintentionally released the bar, which dropped onto his foot. He winced, reaching down for it again. He was met with a knee to his side. It hit him with such force that his weakened form was thrown to the ground. He squeezed his eyes shut in pain.

Captain Hampton towered over him, sneering. "_You _are going to defend the boy? Really, Sparrow? You can't even fight for yourself."

"Ye tortured me, ye bloody blighter." Jack growled hoarsely, attempting to get up from his hands and knees.

Hampton's foot connected with his captive's stomach and he collapsed, an audible breath of air escaping him. "You wouldn't be able to fight off my whole crew for that boy even if you were in your best condition! You're _weak_! The whole lot of your kind are! You think you're strong enough to disobey the world's laws, so you make your own that contradict ours, then you wonder why we punish you! _Weak and foolish!_ There's a reason we hang the lot of you; there's only room for the strong men in this world. You're not built for this world, Sparrow!"

"THEN WHY HAVEN'T YOU KILLED ME YET?!" The prisoner bellowed, his English accent showing through his pirate one as he finally broke. "Better yet, shoot yourself! That's one less person for the law followers to worry about!"

"SHUT UP, YOU FILTHY PIRATE!" The Navy captain finally lost his temper.

A foot slammed into the pirate's stomach with such force that it was sure to leave a nasty bruise. It was almost a miracle that it didn't puncture the skin itself. He cried out in pain properly for the first time since being brought down into the torture room, curling in on himself for protection. _So much for keeping my pride._

"Hampt-" A kick to his exposed back made him cry out again. "W-we can make a deal!"

"ENOUGH OF THIS NONSENSE!" Hampton roared, enraged. Within a split second, the Navy captain had drawn a knife.

Jack's eyes widened in fear, a very probable idea of what the other man was about to do coming to mind. "No. No, no, no, no. No! GET AWAY FROM ME!" The last few words turned into a snarl as his captor advanced on him.

The pirate attempted to scramble away, but his injuries didn't allow him to get far. The captain of the _Lady Rose _pinned him on his back. He sat atop him to keep him from sitting up, and he used one hand to hold the captive's wrists to the floor. When the injured man struggled, nothing happened.

"Open your mouth!" Hampton demanded, knife dangerously close to his prisoner's face.

He shook his head quickly, breath quickening in panic.

In anger at his prisoner's defiance, the Navy captain dropped his knife on the planks and released the other man's wrists, only to clamp both hands around his neck. He squeezed tightly, violently slamming the weak pirate's head into the wood. He did it several times. Part of Jack's head hit the ground just right, and the vision in his left eye gave out to blackness. Head aching, unable to breath, he opened his mouth to suck in air.

Immediately, Hampton snatched his knife and thrust it between the pirate's teeth. He gripped his wrists and pinned them to the wood once again. He focused on his task with the knife. He felt it tear into flesh, hearing a resulting cry from the man beneath him. He pushed on the knife until it broke free from the tongue of the captive and stabbed through his left cheek.

The man got back to his feet with satisfaction, watching Jack turn onto his stomach, coughing and sputtering out blood. A chunk of flesh hit the wooden planks with the blood. Horror filled the pirate. "What did ye do?" He tried to ask, but pain flooded his tongue. Only a hoarse screech and a few grunts escaped him. Blood leaked from his mouth and dripped from his chin. Something inside his mouth kept feeding the stream of blood.

Realization at what his captor did hit him and he slowly looked up, disbelief, shock, and terror embedded in his features. _No...no bloody way._

Hampton's harsh laugh filled the air and sent a chill down his prisoner's spine. He began untying his breeches, the words "You hurt mine, now I'm going to hurt yours" embedding themselves in the pirate's memory forever.

*X*

_He's a mess..._was Stiles' first thought as he saw the guards drag his uncle back up the stairs. The shirtless pirate was bruised and bloodied. There was a knife wound through his cheek, and the eye on the same side of his face was clouded over with something that wasn't an emotion.

Jack was thrown into the cell as soon as the door opened. He stumbled, latching onto the bars to stay upright. He spat out a mouthful of blood and looked back up towards the guards, eyes fearful and jaw set.

"Come on, boy." One of the guards ordered impatiently.

"I don't want to." Stiles responded firmly, eyes transfixed on his uncle.

"Oh, just grab him." The other soldier complained.

That's exactly what the first soldier did. He reached in and grabbed him by the arm, yanking him out of the cell for his companion to close it. The lad watched Jack, worriedly, as he was led down the stairs.

The guard shoved him through the iron barred door of the darkest room he'd ever seen. He heard the keys in the door behind him. His eyes cast over the rank smelling room. There was blood everywhere, both old and fresh. He could see it coating a steel pipe, a set of chains, the floor, the ceiling, and even one of the four curved walls. An uneasy shiver ran up his spine.

He spotted a masked man, who'd walked past the cell as the _Pearl_'s captain was returned to it. His eyes finally rested on the captain of the _Lady Rose_, the man who went by Wilford Hampton.

"Ah, young Mr. Karver. Welcome to this dank little room." He greeted with a wicked smile. "I'm sure you've guessed what this room is by now."

"It's a torture room, sir." Stiles answered quietly. He was quiet for a moment. "I...I don't want to be down here, Captain Hampton."

"Don't worry, boy! You won't be down here nearly as long as your uncle was as long as you cooperate." Hampton told him with enthusiasm. "Just tell me, do you care for your arm or your leg more?"

"Sir?" His brow furrowed in mild confusion. The Navy officer continued to look at him expectantly. So, he finally swallowed and answered,"My arm, of course."

"Then would you lay on that table please?" The captain ordered more than asked him.

Having overheard everything that had gone on in this room when his uncle had been there, Stiles knew being defiant would only result in more pain. So, he nodded, and he walked over to the poor excuse for a wooden table near the room's center. He lay down on it as told.

He watched as Hampton exchanged a nod with the executioner, who approached the table. The man grabbed ahold of the adolescent's left leg and jerked it upwards, as if trying to bend the knee the wrong way. Sharp pain pierced said leg and the young man cried out in pain as an audible snap filled the air.

His leg was dropped back to the table. He didn't try to move it, knowing by the sound that it was more than likely broken. He heard sizzling hot metal and looked up to see an orange _P _shape held by a metal rod, which was in Hampton's grasp.

"Please…" Stiles begged the man not to press it to his skin.

The Navy captain ignored him and took the young man's right arm in his hand. He pressed the hot metal into his arm. Tremendous pain, worse than his leg snapping, filled the adolescent's body. It felt like he was thrown in a fireplace. He screamed against his will, silent tears running down his face.

The room smelled of burning flesh.


	4. Ch3: Familiar Faces

**Disclaimer: I only own Stiles Karver, Captain Wilford Hampton, Jacob Karver, and the **_**HMS Lady Rose**_**. If I owned all the rest, this fiction wouldn't be fan.**

**Chapter Three:**

With each day, more fear grew within Jack. Each day, he was taken below for more beatings. Each day, he lost more of himself- physically and mentally. He'd cower in the corner of the cell whenever even an off-duty guard walked by. Stiles hadn't been subject to the same treatment since he was branded and his leg broken. The soldiers simply let him be.

Every day, each of the two prisoners were given a flask of water and a small ration of pork to keep them alive. The pirate captain drank greedily, but he didn't eat. His tongue had stopped bleeding by the third day, but it still hurt a lot. It wasn't worth the risk.

Time passed by slowly, torturously. Each second felt like a minute, each minute like an hour, and each hour like a day. Stiles counted the days, saying them aloud to Jack each morning. The voyage was only nine days long, but felt more like nine weeks. The kohl was long gone from around the pirate captain's eyes, the spirit long gone from him, when they finally docked in Port Royal.

"Grab Sparrow and the boy, then we'll head to Commodore Norrington's office in the fort." Hampton order four of his men.

The cell door creaked open loudly. Jack shrunk into the back wall, eyes wide in permanent fear. Stiles grimaced, frowning, as he hauled himself to his feet. His broken left leg throbbed painfully. He let two of the men grab him and lead him up toward the deck. The pirate captain, however, remained in the corner of the cell, unmovingly.

"Come on, up with you now, pirate." One of the two remaining men scowled. "We don't have all day."

The broken shell of the pirate legend stared at them with haunted eyes, petrified. _Get away from me...get them away from me now._

"He's not going to move." The other soldier pointed out.

"Well, he ain't gonna fade into the wall either, is he?" The first one growled. "Bloody bilge rat…"

The Navy man unsheathed his cutlass, advancing into the cell. Jack's body tensed up, but he had nowhere to run to. The blade pierced right through his left calf and he gritted his teeth as a hoarse scream sounded in his throat. Blood spilled down his leg and pooled around his foot quickly. He'd long lost his boots, so the skin of his foot quickly began to get coated in the red liquid. The blade pulled away, returning to its owner's sheath. Said owner grabbed the captive's arm and yanked him to his weak, unstead legs. He whimpered as he was dragged out of the cell by his arm.

The other soldier closed the cell and grabbed Jack's other arm. The two men led him up onto the main deck. He had to close his good eye, the light hurting after nine days in the dark. He heard Hampton demanding orders of his crew and heard them responding.

"Sparrow!" His eye opened at the sound of the _Lady Rose_'s captain addressing him. "Put this on."

The man threw a white shirt at him. He caught it, fumbling with it for a moment, before he obeyed. He knew the man wanted to hide his captive's wounds, to keep a _'good' _reputation. He buttoned up the tunic, weak hands shaking all the while. A black vest was shoved into his arms, probably just to ensure no blood would show through the light colored shirt. He put it on, but he didn't button it.

Both prisoners were shackles in irons.

"Let's take them to the Commodore's office and get our reward, boys!" Hampton ordered enthusiastically.

Jack and Stiles were led across the gangplank and into the town of Port Royal. Both limped and stumbled quite often, but they were forced to keep going. The pirate captain could hear the murmurs of the townspeople as they watched them pass. They recognized him from the chaos he'd caused in port upon his arrival about three months ago now. He should have held his head up high and smirked at the recognition, but instead, his bruised form slumped over itself as if wanting to disappear and fade from existence.

"Jack?" The familiar feminine voice came as they were nearing the edge of the town. "Is that you?"

_Elizabeth? Elizabeth Swann? _He raised his head alertly and turned it to scan the direction the voice had come from. He locked eyes with the woman he'd been searching for. He could see the concern in those orbs. He remained frozen as he gazed at her.

"Move, pirate!" A shout and a shove startled him.

A surprised yelp sounded from Jack as his face collided with the gravel of the street. Stiles shouted his name and dropped to his side at his knees, only to get pulled away by Hampton's men. The pirate captain scrambled to his feet as he heard the sounds of beating. His fist scored across a man's face, his knee slamming into another's groin. He used his newfound anger to fight the men off of his nephew. Feeling light-headed, he held out a hand to him, which the adolescent took gratefully, climbing to his feet.

"Stiles! Jonathan!" Another familiar voice came, making both prisoners turn to look ahead.

An elaborate dressed man was hurrying down the street towards them. He wore clothing that was so similar to the Navy that if one didn't know who he was, they'd think he was one of them. However, the kindness in his face and the lack of a fancy white wig proved that he wasn't one.

"Father!" The young cabin boy's face lit up.

"Are you alright?" The man had raced over and was now worriedly checking over his son. He saw the odd angle his left leg was bent at and turned accusingly to Jack. His voice was harsh as he demanded answers. "What did you do to him?"

_What?! I would never hurt him! _He winced, eyes wide, taking a step back. He shook his head, wishing he could speak. _Did he not just witness me defending him?_

"Father!" Stiles piped up as his father advanced on his uncle. "Father, Uncle Jack didn't! He'd never hurt me! He just got them off of me!" He paused. "Besides, he's worse off than I am! Look at him!"

Jack let his brother study his form for a long minute. The man nearly gasped upon seeing the wound in the latter's cheek, the dark bruises on his face, and the clouded eye. The mischievous, playful, and friendly glint was long gone from his other eye. Instead pain, fear, and confusion took its place. Even his duo beard braids had grown and become tangled beyond recognition, his mustache also merging with his beard messily.

"I'm sorry, Jonathan." The well dressed man embraced his broken brother in a tight hug. "I shouldn't have assumed you'd done this." He released him and pulled back, glancing at him again. "Are you alright, my brother?"

_No, Jacob, definitely not. _The pirate captain weakly shook his head.

"Very touching reunion, but please move aside." Hampton finally intervened, growling. "My men and I wish to meet with the Commodore within the hour."

The man's eyes narrowed. "I am Lord Jacob Karver, an equal of Governor Swann, second only to the king of England. You have no right to order me around." The opposing man's face paled. "And what, may I request, are you heading to Commodore Norrington's office for?"

"It is our duty to turn in these pirates, for crimes against the crown." Hampton answered steadily.

"And was it part of your duty to torture them as well?"

"That was just an added bonus."

"I see." It was obvious that Jacob didn't like the other man's arrogance. "Well, I'll escort you and your men to the Commodore's office. Once you collect your reward, leave this port immediately."

"That's the plan." Hampton assured him. He sharply elbowed Jack in the back. "Sparrow, let's go!"

*X*

James Norrington sat at his desk, signing off various papers. Most of them were confirmintation of hangings of diverse criminals in the fort's prison, a couple to the king, and even a few for the governor. But just because he was signing contracts, it didn't mean he was focused on them. He was actually focused on another, one he'd received several days ago.

This particular contract was a request from a lord of the East India Trading Company, by the name of Cutler Beckett. His request was to fetch the heart of Davy Jones, the devil of the seas. The contract hadn't come directly to Norrington, but to Governor Swann, who in turn gave it to him to help with. They'd signed it and sent it back, but were yet to discover where the chest containing said heart was. That was Norrington's only worry.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

He sighed. "Come in."

The door opened and a small group of men entered, the first being cruelly shoved in and falling to the floor with a whimper. Norrington stopped signing the contracts and looked up from his desk at the sound.

His eyes were greeted by Lord Karver, four soldiers, their captain, and two prisoners- one of which lay on the floor. He glanced to the man on the floor. He looked familiar, but because of so many visible cuts and bruises, it was difficult to place who it was. Then it clicked and the Commodore's eyes widened in both shock and recognition.

The man on the floor was no one other than Jack Sparrow, the infamous pirate himself- bruised, cut, and bloodied beyond recognition. No playful twinkle showed in his eyes, one of which was clouded as if it were glass. His facial hair had become one, and grown tangled. Everything about the man looked as if life itself were against him.

Norrington inspected the other prisoner, who appeared to be a boy of no older than sixteen. He had raw, burnt skin in the shape of a _P _on his right arm. His left leg was bent at an odd angle at the knee. The boy's kind eyes were similar to the ones of Lord Karver, who stood beside him. His brown hair matched the older man's as well. Probably a relative.

"On your feet, Sparrow." The Commodore ordered, voice not harsh nor kind.

It seemed to take the pirate captain a lot of effort to move. It took him a whole minute to get from laying flat on his back to just a kneeling position. One of the soldiers seemed genuinely impatient with him. He grabbed the man's arm and hauled him to his feet rather roughly. The prisoner's non-clouded eye was wide with an emotion Norrington would never had expected to see in that man; utter and complete fear.

The captain of the soldiers stepped forward. "Commodore Norrington, I demand payment for the capture of the infamous Jack Sparrow."

The higher-up man frowned at the man's arrogance. "You seem to have forgotten your manners, Captain."

"My most sincere apologies, sir." The man's attitude toned down.

"Forgiven." Norrington assured him, grabbing a new sheet of parchment and snatching his quill from the ink bottle. He quickly wrote down a few sentences that would explain to the governor why this captain would be meeting with him. He returned the quill to the bottle and handed the note across his desk. "Take this to Governor Swann, and the bounty will be split among your crew."

The man took the note greedily. "Good day to you, sir."

"Not so fast." The Commodore called after him, stopping him at the door.

"Sir?"

"The next time you bring tortured prisoners to me, your payment will be significantly less."

"I understand, sir."

"You are dismissed."

The five men were gone within moments, leaving only Sparrow, Lord Karver, and the boy in the room with him.

"I can't stand the nerve of that man!" Karver exclaimed.

Norrington nodded in agreement. "Definitely not the kind I enjoy making dealings with."

The lad cleared his throat. His tone was nervous when he spoke. "Are you going to hang us, sir?"

"No." He admitted. "But I do wish to speak with Sparrow, if you'll leave the room for a moment."

"Of course." Lord Karver nodded. "Come along, Stiles."

_So they are related. _The Commodore watched them leave.

*X*

Jack eyed Norrington untrustingly, waiting to be told to do something. Even though he was relieved that Hampton and his men were gone, he was still more than a bit on edge.

"Sit down." The man gestured to the chair on the other side of his desk.

The pirate obeyed immediately, though he moved slowly, his whole body protesting. _Why'd I bloody fight them?_

"Don't worry, Sparrow, we're only going to talk. I can tell it's been a rough voyage for you."

He nodded in reply as he leaned on the left arm of the chair heavily, propping his arm up with his elbow and resting his chin in his palm. He closed his eyes, sighing deeply.

"You've been unusually quiet. Care to explain?"

_Ha! Wonder why? _Jack opened his eyes and turned his head so that he had full view of the Commodore in his right eye. He spotted some unused parchment and a quill, gesturing to them with his right hand.

"Not speaking, are we?" Norrington asked as he passed him the requested items.

He rolled his eyes as he took them, taking the quill in his right hand to answer the question. **"No."**

"And why not?"

"**Because I can't."**

"Why can't you speak, Sparrow?"

"**Just get to the point. What did you want to talk to me about?"**


	5. Ch4: An Acquaintance

**Disclaimer: I only own the Karvers, Hampton, and the **_**HMS Lady Rose**_. **If I owned the others, I'd be long gone from here.**

**Chapter Four:**

Norrington sighed at his non-cooperative companion. "That was Captain Wilford Hampton of the _HMS Lady Rose_, wasn't it?"

Jack froze at the mention of the man's name, the deep fear that'd become part of him taking over. His hand shook and his head hung low between his shoulders, his free hand running down the left side of his face. He grimaced as it breezed over the stab wound in his cheek. His breathing had risen uncontrollably, enough for him to struggle for air.

"Sparrow?" The Commodore asked, sounding genuinely concerned. "Sparrow, are you alright?"

He made his way around the desk towards Jack, who saw him coming. He made a noise in his throat and scrambled to climb out of the chair, only to make it fall on its left side. He fell with it. A thud sounded as he hit the ground. He scrambled away from the chair, struggling to get to his feet and failing. He stared at the higher-up warily from a crouching position, as if worried he'd pounce on him.

It took the lost pirate a full five minutes to compose himself and gather enough wits to continue the _conversation _again. He spent another two minutes getting up, shrugging off Norrington's help when he tried to assist him. He kept his eye firmly fixed on the man as he sat the chair upright and took his place in it again.

"**Yes, that's him." **He had to use his left arm to keep his right arm steady when he wrote. **"But I don't want to talk about it."**

"Why don't you?" The Commodore asked, seeming so naive to the pirate.

He nearly slammed his fist down on the desk in disbelief. **"If you were me, would you want to talk about the man who tortured you for nine days?"**

"No."

"**There you go."**

"You've got a fair point, Sparrow." Norrington sighed. "Now, the reason I wanted to talk to you is actually because of a contract that came in several days ago. Governor Swann passed it all the way to me because he wasn't sure what to do about it himself."

"**You've captured my interest. What do they want?"**

"They want the heart of Davy Jones." He answered. "What I'm worried about is how to find where it's at."

"**The heart of Davy Jones?"**

"Yes."

"**They're bloody mad." **He paused to rub his face. Then he stared blankly at the parchment for a moment. **"You know, I actually have a debt to him that I'll have to pay within the year, and I don't wish to get involved with him yet."**

"Is that a no then?" The Commodore questioned.

"**Not necessarily."**

"I'm assuming you want more information?"

Jack nodded. **"It'd certainly help influence my decision."**

"Let's just say that if you help us, we'll help you." Norrington promised.

"**How do I know you won't hang me for my past crimes instead?" **He wrote after a moment of consideration.

"Because I'm a man of honor, Mr. Sparrow." The man let out an exasperated sigh. "I will keep my word, even if you are a pirate."

"**You're lucky that I'm desperate then, Commodore."**

"Do we have an agreement then?"

He nodded again. **"We do."**

"Very well then." Norrington held out his hand for him to shake.

The pirate stared at the man's hand for a moment, but then a sheepish grin covered his face. **"Sorry, mate, but I'm not exactly very touchy at this moment of time."**

"I'll let you get away with that just this once."

Jack let out a chuckle, which was distorted for the same reason he couldn't speak. "**Shall we go meet up with the others then?"**

"Actually, I was hoping we could come up with a plan now." The Commodore admitted.

"**Good thing I've got one already then, eh?" **He raised an eyebrow at the other man, smirking. **"There's a place- I forgot what it was called- where you could wish for anything you want and get it, or a way to it. If we go there, you can wish for the location of the heart."**

"Do you know how to get there?" Norrington asked.

He fumbled for something on his belt. He was surprised, yet thankful, to find that it was still there. He lifted up his compass for the other man to see.

"That compass doesn't point North." The higher-up man recalled, frowning.

Jack sighed, rolling his eyes. **"It does if I wish to go North. But North isn't where we're going now, is it? All I need is this, and I promise you we'll get there."**

"How long will it take?" He looked unconvinced.

"**That, like all other voyages, depends on many things; the ship, the weather, the actual distance, and the possibility of coming across other ships. You get the idea." **He paused for a moment. **"When do you plan on departing?"**

"As soon as you're in good enough health to travel." Norrington responded. "Also, I can make arrangements with Governor Swann for you and the boy to stay in his manor until the time to depart comes. Assuming you'd rather not stay in the fort."

"**You're sure he won't mind pirates staying in his house?"**

"Since when did you care about others' opinions, Sparrow?"

"**Since my nephew and I were taken captive."**

"You're related to Lord Karver?" The Commodore seemed shocked.

Jack nodded. **"He's my older half brother. Stiles out there with him is his son. Not exactly the ideal family reunion, but… You're sure the governor won't mind?"**

"He'll be alright, even if skeptical, once he learns you're helping us." He paused, then chuckled. "Besides, Elizabeth'll win him over if he says no."

The pirate smirked in amusement. **"As long as you're certain."**

*X*

"I received word from Governor Swann that you and young Mr. Karver may stay in his manor until the voyage begins." Norrington announced some time later, walking back into his office.

"**Are we going over now?" **Jack wrote.

"We're going in two trips." He shook his head. "I sent the Karvers along first. I believe Elizabeth'll be meeting us at the bathhouse just inside their property."

"**Bathhouse?"**

"You don't mean to tell me that you plan on strolling in there looking like that, do you?"

The pirate captain looked down at his bloodied, dirt covered hands and sighed. **"Suppose not."**

"You don't care to tell me what they did to you on your journey here, do you?" The Commodore asked.

The former captive froze for a long few moments, fear returning to him just at the mention of it. His head remained still and eye remained distant when he finally wrote: **"You'll see everything you need to see when we get to the bathhouse."**

Norrington didn't say anything. Jack didn't write anything else either. They sat there in a tense silence, waiting. The pirate messed with the feather of the quill, but was focused on painful memories. His eye was wide with the same fear the other man had seen earlier.

"_No! GET AWAY FROM ME!" It was a harsh sound that escaped his throat._

_...The slamming of his head on the hard planks of the ship's floor, followed by the blackness in his left eye._

He let out a whimper, shaking his head violently to clear the memory away. He squeezed the quill tightly, unintentionally covering his hands in the black ink.

"Sparrow? Are you alright?" The Commodore's voice startled him.

The abused man's head snapped to the left, his right eye settling on the man across the desk from him. He took a deep breath, sighing and running his left hand through his dreadlocks. He slowly returned the quill to its place on the desk. He finally nodded in response to the other's question.

"Sir, your ride is here!" A voice came from the other side of the door.

Jack froze for a moment, the man's shout reminding him of Hampton throwing insults at him.

"Thank you, Gillette." Norrington replied. He turned to his companion. "If I take those irons off of you, do you promise not to try anything?"

The pirate nodded.

"Very well then." He walked around the desk towards him. The Navy man seemed to see the latter's jaw clench, and he sighed resignedly. "Sparrow, if I wanted to hurt you, I would have by now. You can relax."

The broken man let out a breath and nodded again. _I'm relaxing...now take these off if that's what you want to do._

The Commodore reached him and pulled out a set of keys. He fit one into the hole of the right cuff, twisting it. The cuff popped open, revealing the raw, cut skin of the other man's wrist. He removed the other one, setting the pair of irons on his desk as he put away his keys.

"You should have told me that those were tight." He told him as he helped him up.

His companion rolled his eyes as he rotated his wrists, returning the circulation to them.

*X*

Jack was surprised to find that it was dark outside when he and the Commodore emerged from within Fort Charles. The sound of the crickets refreshed his ears and lifted his spirits ever so slightly. That was until he saw an all too familiar face coming towards him.

"Good evening, Commodore." Wilford Hampton greeted the higher-up man with an arrogant grin. "You seem troubled. Has this rat been an issue? I can deal with him for you."

Norrington opened his mouth to retort, but the Navy captain acted first.

The man's foot connected with the pirate's bad shin, causing him to cry out and fall to his knees. The back of his head was struck with a fist several times, to the point of him collapsing on his side. An audible snap was heard as a boot met his ribcage. Another snap followed three kicks later. He moaned weakly, curling up. His exposed back was met with the same blows his ribs had received. A blood curdling scream of immense pain erupted from his lungs.

The Commodore finally launched into action after a moment of being stunned frozen. "Hey! Captain, what did I tell you about torturing prisoners?"

"I've already been paid for this one, Commodore. I have nothing to lose." Hampton retorted boastfully.

*X*

"That's it!" Norrington snapped, attempting to pull the other man back by his shoulders.

The Navy captain slammed his elbow into his attacker's ribs, spinning around and swiftly punching the man in the face. The higher-up stumbled, but tripped and met the ground before he could regain his balance. A pistol was drawn and pointed at his face.

"You made the wrong choice, Commodore." The arrogant man growled, a click sounding as he locked the weapon and prepared to fire.

"STAND DOWN, NOW!" A voice roared from across the courtyard of the fort.

The two men turned to see Gillette, musket drawn, aiming his weapon at Hampton. The _Lady Rose_'s captain didn't react, though his eyes narrowed dangerously. Within a split second, his weapon shifted upward and fired a shot. A muffled scream of pain sounded from across the courtyard.

"GILLETTE!" Norrington bellowed, concern for his fellow soldier in his voice.

A musket shot rang out and Hampton hissed in pain, stumbling back from the fallen man before him. The Commodore leapt to his feet immediately, drawing his sword and holding it before him. He didn't turn to see who had assisted him- that was irrelevant for the moment.

"This isn't over." The Navy captain growled, clutching his wounded arm.

"Leave Port Royal immediately." The other man ordered coldly. "If you are found here in the morning and any time after, you will be shot on sight."

Hampton let out a sound of annoyance and spun around, stalking away towards the fort exit. Norrington turned to see who had assisted him. He wasn't surprised to see it was Groves. The man had put down the musket and was checking Gillette's pulse. He began to head towards the two men.

"He's still alive, sir." Groves reported, looking up at him as he approached. "Do you wish for me to fetch the doctor?"

"Yes, do that." The Commodore nodded. "And hurry."

"Very well, sir." The man got up and raced towards the fort stables.

Now alone with the unconscious Gillette, Norrington turned towards Sparrow. The abused man hadn't moved from his curled up position on the ground. He narrowed his eyes in suspicious concern for the pirate. He studied his form, half expecting him to pop his head up to see if it was safe. He didn't.

With growing apprehension, the Commodore started towards the unmoving form of the pirate captain. As he grew closer, he realized that the man really wasn't moving. He could see the heavy rise and fall of his flank as he struggled to breath with the broken ribs. Upon reaching him, the Navy man paused and looked down at him. His breathing was an audible wheezing sound. The man's eyes were closed, most likely unconscious as well. But he couldn't rule out that his eyes might just be squeezed tight in fear.

"Sparrow?" Norrington inquired, his voice full of pity. "Are you alright?"

No reaction came from the pirate.

He knelt down beside him, inspecting the man's face. He risked putting a hand on his shoulder and rolling him onto his back. He whimpered painfully, but didn't react otherwise. He was definitely unconscious. _What did they do to you so that you could feel it in your sleep? _He wondered, not saying it aloud.

"Sorry, Sparrow, but it seems with all the action, you'll be spending the night here." The Commodore muttered to the unconscious man. Then he called,"Mullroy! Murtogg!"

He quickly took a piece or parchment and a quill from his coat, scribbling down a short letter to the governor.

"**Governor Swann,**

**Due to some complications at the fort, Sparrow's arrival must be delayed. Tell Lord Karver, his son, and dear Elizabeth that they may visit him over the night. Warn them that he's currently unconscious however, and refuses to speak.**

**Have a good rest of your night,**

**Commodore James Norrington"**


	6. Ch5: They Cut Your Tongue

**Disclaimer: I only own the Karvers, Hampton, and the **_**HMS Lady Rose**_. **If I owned the others, I'd be long gone from here. Sorry, mate, but I ain't Disney.**

**Chapter Five:**

After sending Mullroy and Murtogg off to the governor's manor with the letter, Norrington turned back to Sparrow. The black vest on his body was dishevelled and pulled back from the shirt. To his horror, he spotted something he hadn't before; a red liquid stained the side of the pirate's shirt. Genuinely worried for the injured man's health, he decided to check the extent of his wounds.

With care, the Commodore removed the pirate's vest and unbuttoned the tunic. He slid it off of his shoulders. He used one arm to hold the man's body in a sitting position as he examined him with shock, disbelief, and pity.

Sparrow's front was covered in dark bruises, the darkest of them down near his hips. Those particular bruises were hand shaped. Horror filled him at the possibility of what most likely happened to the man before him, and likely the very cause of the former captive's fear. He spotted a sword wound in the stretch of skin connecting his right shoulder and his neck.

The pirate's sides had bloody welts that resembled cat o' nine whip marks. Moving around to examine his back, Norrington wasn't surprised to find the same marks, just more in number. The welts had reduced the man's back to a bloody, raw hunk of meat. Straight down the middle, there was a cut that looked suspiciously like it had come from a sword.

Looking down the body of the unconscious form, he saw that the legs of his breeches had been pulled up. Straining his eyes in the darkness, he spotted a stab wound clear through one of the victim's legs, dried blood trailing down to cover his foot.

The Commodore looked back to Sparrow's face. Bruises littered his forehead and cheeks. A stab wound punctured completely through a section of the left cheek. If he looked hard enough, he'd probably be able to see inside the man's mouth. And then there was the left eye. It'd been clouded when open, causing more than a little concern in the Navy man. If he didn't know any better, he'd say the injured man was blind in that eye, especially considering how he'd been tilting the right side of his face toward him.

Overall, the once optimistic pirate's frame was bruised and bloodied beyond recognition, not to mention extremely skinny- his ribs were visible through the skin, a disgusting sight considering at least two of them were broken now. The hands and wrists were bruised too, probably handled roughly as the pirate had attempted to defend himself.

Norrington lifted the unconscious Sparrow up, holding him gently yet firmly, as dropping him would do him no good. He carried him into the fort, entering the room beside his office- a storage room. He rested him on an elaborate wooden table, more concerned about the injured man's health than ruining a table with his blood. He turned to search the room for spare bandages- and other medical supplies that'd help.

A low, pained moan cut through the air from where the pirate lay. The Commodore glanced back at him, nearly surprised to see the other man looking back at him, a fearful curiosity in his gaze.

*X*

"Are you alright?" Norrington asked quietly.

Jack shrugged his good shoulder, back wincing painfully soon after. He could feel the _almost _smooth surface of the table below him. _I see you've taken a look at my more obvious injuries...Where are we anyway?_

"Do you want something to write on?"

He shrugged again, regretting it immediately. _I don't care._

"Well, just in case you do…" The Navy man trailed off as he grabbed a writing pad, a quill, and a small bottle of ink. He handed them over to him.

"**Where are we and why are we here?" **He needed to get things figured out inside his head.

"We're in the storage room next to my office." The Commodore explained. "As to why we're here, I'm looking for bandages."

"**Whatever for?"**

"Sparrow, have you not seen your back?"

Jack decided to settle on an attempt of humor. **"Yes, I definitely have eyes on the back of my head."**

"Sparrow." Norrington's voice was firm with disapproval.

The _Pearl_'s captain shrank back slightly, nervously. **"Sorry. Not funny. No, I have not seen my back. You clearly have, though I thought I told you to wait."**

"You did."

"**Then why did you look?"**

"There comes a time when someone's health is more important than what they want." The Commodore answered. "Besides, a kick to the back shouldn't knock someone unconscious."

Jack frowned. **"Well, it did me."**

"How much did they whip you?" He asked.

His eye became haunted and his torso shuddered. He didn't write anything for a long moment. **"Enough to leave my back numb and me laying in a puddle of my own blood each time they finished. Once every day, with a cat o' nine and a steel pipe."**

"They beat you with a pipe?"

He nodded solemnly.

"Bastards."

The pair of men lapsed into a long silence. Norrington turned back to searching through everything in the room for the bandages. Jack remained still, admiring the luxurious items around the room to keep his mind from the painful memories of the voyage.

"Sparrow." The Commodore had found the bandages. "Can you get up for me?"

The pirate nodded, weakly pulling himself from the table. His legs trembled under his weight and he grabbed the table for support. The bandages were wrapped around his torso the best they could be, tight enough so that the pressure would keep the wounds from bleeding.

"**Suppose you should lock me up for the night then?" **Jack wrote.

"I suppose so." Norrington replied, sounding regretful. "Tomorrow you'll be moved to the governor's mansion. You should be more comfortable there."

"**So I hope."**

He grabbed the pad and writing materials, following the naval officer out of the storage room and down the stone halls to some stairs. They descended them, several flights, to the prison level. It was quiet, giving away that there were no prisoners as of current.

Norrington stopped at one cell in particular. Jack recognized it as the one he'd been in after his duel with Will Turner. His companion unlocked it and moved aside to let him in. After the pirate entered, it was locked behind him.

"I hope you understand that this is more for your safety than anyone else's." The Commodore said quietly.

The _Pearl_'s captain nodded. He understood completely.

"In that case, I'll quickly fetch you something to eat and some water." He promised.

"**Not rum? It'd take the edge off the pain."**

"I'm afraid we don't have any here, Sparrow." Norrington responded. "You'll have to make do for the time being."

Jack sighed, sitting down on the hay covered stone floor, placing his writing materials beside him. He watched the other man walk off to retrieve what he'd promised. _Rum really _would _be nice right about now._

He was snapped back to reality at the sound of footsteps on the stone floor. There was no way Norrington could be back so soon. Fearing for his life, he scrambled to the back of the cell, in a shadowed corner. He brought his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs. His heartbeat was in his throat, pounding so hard he was sure it'd tear right through.

He let out an audible sigh of relief as a familiar young face peered at him through the bars. It was Elizabeth Swann.

"Jack?" She asked softly, recognizing him.

The injured pirate captain nodded at her. _It's me. It's me._

"What happened to you?"

He reached for his writing pad. **"Too much."**

"What are you doing here at this hour?" Norrington's voice came as he returned.

"I came to see Jack. I was worried." Elizabeth answered. "My father showed me your letter."

"Well, Mr. Sparrow will survive the night, I believe." He told her. "Though you're free to stay with him as long as you wish."

"Thank you, James." She said gratefully.

The Commodore nodded, turning back to Jack. He held a canteen of water and an apple through the bars of the cell. "Here you are, Sparrow."

Still on the ground, the pirate crept forward and took the canteen before retreating back. He opened it, drinking the water greedily. He felt the eyes of the others on him and turned back to them with a raised eyebrow.

"Did they feed you at all?" Norrington inquired.

The pirate's brow furrowed in slight confusion, but he nodded.

"Did you actually eat any of it?"

Jack's eyes flickered back to the apple with realization, yet he forced himself to shake his head.

"They cut your tongue, didn't they? That's why you won't speak." It was more of a statement than a question. "You're starving yourself."

The pirate froze, the memory of the moment it happened resurfacing.

_The knife was thrust between his teeth, catching on the flesh of his tongue. He felt it tear, pain flying through him. Then the weapon slipped and tore a hole through his cheek._

_When Hampton got off of him, he turned over, spitting out a mouthful of streaming blood, a chunk of flesh coming out with it. That's when it dawned on him._

Jack finally nodded. He remembered when he'd tried to ask Hampton what he did; how no words had come. He wondered what would happen if he tried now. He opened his mouth to give it a try.

"More or less."

The words were extremely distorted, edged with the pain he felt in his tongue as it touched the roof of his mouth. He winced, both at the pain and the sound of his own voice.

He briefly glanced at Elizabeth and Norrington, catching them exchange glances of horror. He looked to the canteen, turning it in his hands self consciously.

"Well, that certainly complicates things." The Commodore finally murmured.

Jack couldn't help but agree, giving a small nod. _Aye, it does._

"Elizabeth,"Norrington turned to her,"Can you return to your manor and see if you can find anything he may be able to eat?"

She nodded. "I'll see what I can find. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Elizabeth vanished from the pirate's sight as she left, her footsteps echoing as she went down the hall.

"Is there anything else you need, Sparrow?" The naval man asked.

_Yeah, to forget everything that happened on that cursed vessel. _Jack shook his head.

"Very well." The Commodore turned to leave. "I'll wait for Elizabeth to return. I highly suggest that you try to get some rest."

He nodded to show he'd heard.

Norrington vanished from sight after Elizabeth, leaving him alone in his cell.


	7. Ch6: The Truth

**Disclaimer: If I owned PotC, I'd be rich and not here. I only own Stiles Karver, Lord Jacob Karver, Wilford Hampton, and the **_**HMS Lady Rose.**_

**Chapter 6:**

Someone calling his name roused Jack from his sleep. He groaned, propping himself up on his elbows, pain flowing through his back. Glancing toward the cell door, he was greeted with the sight of Norrington and Elizabeth.

The young woman looked back toward the naval officer, who gave her a nod. She opened the cell door, which gave a loud creak, and entered. The pirate didn't move, but he eyed her movements. She knelt down beside him, holding out what looked to be a bowl. _Food_.

He slowly forced himself to sit up, stretching as he did. He reached out and took the bowl from Elizabeth. He examined the contents of the bowl, unsurprised to find some sort of soup. He was handed a spoon. He scooped up some of the soup, raising the spoon to his lips cautiously. He tilted his head back slightly as he ate. Using the remains of his tongue as little as possible as he swallowed the soup down.

Jack sat there for a moment, brow furrowed, until it occurred to him that he could actually _eat_ with minimum pain. A small smile slowly spread across his face and he resumed eating, quicker than before, feeling relief as his hollow stomach was filled. _Maybe this won't be as bad as I thought it'd be._

He finished eating after a couple of minutes, handing Elizabeth the bowl and spoon back. He blinked gratefully at her. She smiled at him, the corner of his own lips curving upwards slightly. He rested his hand on the ground, leaning on his arm comfortably.

"How are you feeling?" Norrington asked him.

Jack shrugged, then nodded. **"Better. You know, I really didn't want to go out from starving."**

The other man nodded in understanding. "Well, I'm going for the night. I'll come in the morning, and we'll head to Governor Swann's from there."

"**Sounds like a plan, mate."**

"Get some rest, Sparrow. You've had a long voyage." And with that, the Commodore left him and Elizabeth, vanishing from sight.

"**Well, he's gone then."**

"Yes, he is." She agreed with a nod. She paused, hesitating for a moment. "What happened to you, Jack?"

He shrugged. **"The **_**Pearl **_**was ambushed by four Navy ships."**

"Four?" She gaped.

He nodded. **"Aye, four. We sank three of them rather quickly, but I was bloody stupid and decided we'd board the fourth. I'd say that was the worst decision I've ever made."**

"What happened?"

The pirate captain visibly winced. **"I went and got myself wounded, that's what. Called Gibbs over to help me. By the time we turned to the rest of the fight, they had our crew cornered. I ordered retreat back to the **_**Pearl **_**and tried to clear a path. That's when I took a sword to the back and they caught me. Bloody stupid Gibbs tried to negotiate with them, but they wouldn't hear it. Their first mate flogged my head with the hilt of his sword. Knocked me out after three or four hits. Woke up in the brig of their ship on the way here, with Stiles showing up as a stowaway.."**

"Did they torture you?" Elizabeth's voice was soft.

"**You could say that. They whipped me, they beat me, cut out my tongue, half blinded me unintentionally." **He shrugged. **"They **_**definitely **_**tortured me, yes."**

"What about that cut on your face?"

"**Knife slipped when they were trying to cut my tongue out."**

"Did it hurt?" She asked.

He nodded. _Of course it bloody hurt!_

"What are you afraid of?"

"**No man should have to suffer what I suffered." **He mused solemnly, eyes flashing in pain at the memories.

"What else did they do to you, Jack?" The young woman pressed.

Jack shook his head. **"I'm not going to tell you. I can't tell you."**

Elizabeth hesitated. "Did they..._rape _you?"

He shifted uncomfortably, biting his bottom lip. He didn't answer, grabbing his canteen and fidgeting with it. He didn't want himself to face the truth. It hurt too much, knowing that's what had happened to him.

"Jack…" She said more gently, reaching out to touch his forearm. "They did, didn't they?"

He let out a shaky breath he didn't know he'd held, shoulders sagging in defeat. He slowly nodded. **"So they did. Wasn't a damned thing I could do against it either. I was weak, helpless. Still am. I hate it."**

"I'm sorry, Jack." She murmured.

"**When I've healed, I'm going to find Hampton and I'm going to kill him. Make him pay for what he did to me. And for what he did to Stiles."**

"Your nephew?" Elizabeth asked. Apparently she'd met the boy. "What'd they do to him?"

"**They only broke his leg and branded him. But he didn't deserve it. All he did was stowaway to save me. Shame he got found out."**

She nodded in agreement. "He's a fine boy, Jack. I can see a bit of him in you."

Jack tilted his head at her. _What do you mean?_

The governor's daughter smiled a bit. "He told me how you stood up for him when Hampton talked about torturing him after you, on the first day. That you fought him over it."

"_Ye are not touchin' that boy!" He'd fumed._

He blinked and then nodded. **"Didn't end very well, but I tried. I wasn't gonna give in that easily, love. If I can spend ten years chasing Barbossa, I can stand up to Hampton."**

"I know." Elizabeth assured him, taking his hand. "But Hampton did a lot more to you than Barbossa ever did."

He nodded. _Hate to say it, but that's true enough._

"**How's William?"**

"Will's fine." She explained. "He and I discovered that our bond was more one of siblings than anything, so we're keeping it to that."

He nodded again. _So they're not _together _anymore. Curious._

"**And what of the Commodore?"**

"I didn't marry him, if that's what you mean." She sounded rather bitter.

He shrank away from her slightly, not wanting her to go off on him.

"Sorry." She murmured apologetically, giving his hand a light squeeze. "It's been a long day."

Jack relaxed, grunting in agreement.

"I'm sorry that you got pushed in the street earlier."

"**That's not your fault, love, and you know it."**

"But I distracted you." Elizabeth pointed out.

He raised a bemused eyebrow. **"And? **_**I **_**stopped in the middle of the street. That's my own fault that I got shoved over."**

She didn't reply.

A void of silence overcame them. Jack began fidgeting with the canteen again, pulling his hand from hers. He shifted so that his back was against the wall, fighting the pain off.

"Jack?"

He glanced up at her.

"Will you be alright if I leave?"

He shrugged. **"I'd prefer it if you stayed. I don't want to be left alone here."**

"Then I'll stay." The governor's daughter promised. She moved to sit opposite of him. Seeming to sense that he was unhappy, she spoke up. "What's wrong?"

_The fact that even Commodore Norrington is helping a good-for-nothing pirate, that's what._

Jack opened his mouth to speak, but remembered last second what a bad idea it'd be. He cringed, shutting his mouth and picking up the quill. **"Why are you helping me? Why is the **_**Commodore **_**helping me?"**

"Are you suggesting that you don't deserve our help?" Elizabeth asked, eyes narrowed in disbelief.

He nodded, suddenly feeling ashamed.

"Jack Sparrow, don't let me _ever _catch you even thinking that ever again!" She exclaimed.

He flinched against the wall, the corners of his lips curling in a nervous smile. _That's the Elizabeth I know._

"Try to get some sleep, Jack." She urged. "I'll be here with you."

*X*

Norrington arrived a couple of hours after the sun rose. Jack was still sleeping when he approached the cell. Elizabeth, half asleep, mumbled a greeting to him and stood up. The naval man let her from the cell and closed it again. They stood side by side, looking in on the sleeping form of the injured pirate.

"How is he?" The Commodore asked softly.

"Not the Jack Sparrow I know." She murmured. "He's...depressed. He thinks he doesn't deserve our help because he's a pirate."

He sighed regretfully. "I was afraid he'd feel that way."

"But he _does _want revenge on the crew of that ship." The governor's daughter explained.

"I suppose that's a good sign."

"Yes."

"Did he say anything else?" Norrington asked. "Did he tell you why he's so timid?"

"He did, actually." Elizabeth admitted, feeling a pang of emotion in her chest at the look in his eyes when he'd written about it. "I asked him about it and he told me that no one should suffer what he did. I took a wild guess and asked him if they'd raped him."

"He said yes, didn't he?" He seemed to already know.

"He did." She nodded, feeling her eyes burn for Jack. "James, I can't imagine how hard it must've been for him on that ship."

"Neither can I." The Commodore shook his head.

"He's lucky they didn't kill him."

"There's only one reason why they didn't kill him."

"And why's that?" She felt a pit of dread in her stomach.

"Their captain just wanted his reward." He spat, voice cold.

"_What!?_" Disbelief and anger coursed through her. "They might as well be pirates!"

"I know. And I agree."

They fell silent as Jack started whimpering and tossing around in his sleep. Elizabeth couldn't even imagine what horrors he was reliving. Her heart hurt for him. _Raped, beaten, tortured, tongue cut out...I wonder what else they did to him. _Suddenly, she wondered how her companion knew what had happened to the pirate. She brought it upon herself to ask.

"James, how did you- how did you know what they did to him?"

"Last night, Captain Hampton brought it upon himself to visit the fort and attack him. He beat him, kicked at his ribs. He kicked Sparrow's back and he fell unconscious." Norrington explained. "I knew then that I had to look. A kick to someone's back shouldn't knock him out. His back is _covered _in lashmarks from a cat o' nine and a pipe. But that's not all I noticed."

"What else did you notice?" She asked.

In response, he opened the door to the pirate's cell and gestured her in. She did as he wished, following her before he closed it. He crouched down at the squirming man's side and undid the bottom layers of bandages.

Jack's stomach was covered in black-blue patches, but the more concerning ones were more of a purple-black color on his hips. They were hand shaped.

Horror and disgust towards Jack's former captors filled her, followed by rage and an ache of revenge. _And to believe that those bastards are part of the Navy!_

The Commodore carefully tightened the bandages again, Just as he pulled back, however, there was a gasp of fear. Jack had awoken. His eyes were wild in panic and he scrambled back to get away from them. Unfortunately, his arm slipped and his back slammed into the stone floor. A growl of pain escaped through his clenched teeth.

"Bloody 'ell…" He slurred distortedly, face twinging in regret immediately after.

"Are you alright?" Elizabeth asked.

The pirate captain nodded weakly, lifting his head up as he blinked sleep from his eyes.

"Time to go, Sparrow." Norrington announced.


	8. Ch7: Like Old Times

**Disclaimer: I do not own PotC, but I **_**do **_**own the Karvers, Hampton, and the **_**HMS Lady Rose**_**.**

**Chapter 7:**

The horse-drawn carriage pulled to a stop, much to Jack's relief. He didn't enjoy this form of travel. He missed his ship. He opened the door on his left, hopping down to ground level. Weak legs almost buckled beneath him and he had to grab the carriage to regain his balance. Norrington climbed out after him, assisting Elizabeth out next. He climbed back in and the carriage continued on to the manor itself.

They were at the bathhouse, Elizabeth had insisted on helping him, saying it was her house and she could show him where everything was. And who was he to argue in his state?

It was only after the carriage left that the pirate realized that he'd left his writing materials behind. He shrugged it off, telling himself he wouldn't need it.

Elizabeth led him inside the bathhouse, which was only several rooms large. He followed her into one of the side rooms. An empty water basin sat in the center of the room. She dragged it to the side of the room, where a warm water pump sat. She spent a good few minutes pumping water into the tub, before it was at a decent amount.

After dragging it back to the center of the room, she turned to him. "I'll go find you something to change into. You can strip and get into the tub while I do that."

He nodded in response and she spun around to do what she said she'd do, leaving him alone.

Jack began to do as she'd suggested, removing the bandages from his torso. He felt the thinly healed wounds stretch as he bent over to take off his boots, before he realized that he didn't have any. He rolled his eyes at himself, removing his bandana and the trinkets from his head. He removed the sash around his waist and his belt, trousers following.

He stepped into the tub, fully unclothed, grimacing at the water stung the wounds in his feet and calves. He slowly sank down, dreading the pain he'd feel in his back. He submerged carefully, crying out in pain through clenched teeth as the still-open lashes in his back absorbed water.

Submerged to his neck, he lay back against the curved side of the basin and forced himself to relax, doing his best to ignore the pain. He dunked his head under, wetting his dreadlocks and facial hair. When he surfaced, blinking water from his eyes, he spat out the water that had slipped in through the hole in his cheek.

The water was already a murky color, full of his blood and the other grime that had covered his body.

Jack dragged a hand through the mess of his beard, which came out covered in both blood and dirt. He shook his hand under the water to clean it, repeating the process two more times. He undid the overgrown twin braids, redoing them neatly.

He ran a hand through his dreadlocks, intending on cleaning the dust from them too, but his hand got snagged pretty quickly. His face twitched in annoyance and he sought to free his hand. It took him a good long moment to figure it out, but he did, cracking his knuckles with a sigh. He set back to work, his hands coating with grime rather quickly. He rinsed them off, combing them through again and again. Once he'd cleaned most of the dirt out, he began to untangle them so that his hair would no longer be dreadlocked and that he could redo it.

He's just finished untangling the last of his dreadlocks when Elizabeth walked back in. She saw what he was doing and amusement came across her face. She placed the stack of clothes she held on a table across the room, coming to kneel beside him.

"Let me help." She offered.

He lowered his hands in silent defeat, crossing his arms across his bare chest. He felt her hands grab his hair and twist it into the right shape. He was mildly surprised and impressed. _When'd you learn to dreadlock?_

Jack, now unoccupied, found himself studying her face. Her expression was set in concentration as she worked, brown eyes focused on the task at hand.

His mind wandered, not back to the memories of the voyage to Port Royal, but of the night he and Elizabeth had spent on Rumrunner's Isle after Barbossa marooned them.

"_You'll be positively the most fearsome pirate in the Spanish Main." She'd said, looking directly at him._

"_Not jus' the Spanish main, love. The entire ocean. The entire world." He'd replied. "Wherever we want to go, we go. That's what a ship is, ye know. It's not jus' a keel, an' a deck, an' sails. That's what a ship _needs_. But what a ship is- what the _Black Pearl_ really is- is freedom."_

He smiled at the memory, finding himself growing fond of the young woman dreadlocking his hair. He was taken off-guard to find her gazing back at his face. She returned the smile, making him wonder what she was thinking.

Then, catching the pirate even more by surprise, Elizabeth leaned down and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was slow, yet full of caring. After she pulled away, he leaned his forehead against hers. He cupped her cheek, stroking her smooth skin with his thumb.

"I love you, Jack." She murmured.

_I love you too, Lizzie._

*X*

The carriage was waiting for them when they left the bathhouse, Jack feeling cleaner than he had in weeks. His mind, too, was at peace for the moment. They climbed into the carriage for the thankfully short ride to the manor. They disembarked it upon arrival, the pirate helping the governor's daughter to the ground just as Norrington had.

Stiles- also cleaned and looking better, Lord Karver, Norrington, Governor Swann, and Will Turner- to Jack's surprise- were awaiting their arrival just outside the doors. The pirate could feel their eyes on him as he followed Elizabeth in their direction. _It's not nice to stare._

"Elizabeth." Will greeted. "Jack."

The _Black Pearl_'s captain gave a small nod in reply. _I wonder if they've told him anything._

"You're looking better, Sparrow." Norrington told him.

He gave a small shrug.

The small group went inside the manor. To the pirate captain's surprise, his brother gestured for him to follow him. He obeyed, climbing the stairs after him. His legs protested, but he ignored them. He was led to a room on the right side of the hall.

Jacob opened the door. "Weatherby told me that this room would work for you while you stayed."

The bedroom was of decent size, and surprisingly casual for a governor's mansion. The one thing that drew Jack's eyes was a small guitar that leaned against the far wall. He felt a sense of childhood nostalgia overwhelm him for a moment. He crossed the room to the instrument, picking it up with care, turning it right way around in his hands.

"I requested that for you." His brother told him. "Figured something from home would help."

The pirate nodded gratefully. _That it does._

He strummed the strings to test their strength and tautness. They were pretty sturdy, made of a strong material. Recently replaced, he guessed.

He thought for a moment, choosing one of the many songs he'd heard his father sing over the years. Then he began to play it. Jacob recognized the song instantly and began to sing it.

"_Where am I to go me Johnnies, where am I to go?  
To-me! Way hey hey, high roll and go,  
Ho where am I to go me Johnnies, oh where am I to go?  
For I'm a young sailor boy and where am I to go?_

_Way up on that t'gallant yard, that's where you're bound to go  
To-me! way hey hey, high roll and go,  
Way up in that t'gallant yard, the gans'l for to stow.  
For I'm a young sailor boy and where am I to go!_

_Way up on that t'gallant yard and take that gans'l in  
To-me! way hey hey, high roll and go,  
Way up on that t'gallant yard the rabbit for to skin  
For I'm a young sailor boy and where am I to go!_

_Where am I to go me Johnnies, where am I to go.  
To-me! way hey hey, high roll and go,  
You're bound away around Cape Horn, that's where you're bound to go.  
For I'm a young sailor boy and where am I to go!_

_You're bound away around Cape Horn all through the ice an' snow  
To-me! way hey hey, high roll and go,  
You're bound away me bully boys, that's where you're bound to go.  
For I'm a young sailor boy and where am I to go!_

_You're bound to be a sailorman, when you have served your time.  
To-me! way hey hey, high roll and go,  
You're bound to be a sailorman all in the blackball line  
For I'm a young sailor boy and where am I to go!_

_Where am I to go me Johnnies, where am I to go?  
To-me! way hey hey, high roll and go,  
Ho where am I to go me Johnnies, oh where am I to go?  
For I'm a young sailor boy and where am I to go?"_

Jack looked up from his guitar to see that he and Jacob had acquired an audience. They seemed mildly surprised by the brothers, causing a small smirk to spread across his face.

"What song was that?" Will asked.

"It's called _Where Am I To Go_." Lord Karver told them. "Jack's father used to sing it all the time when we were younger."

The pirate nodded confirmation.

"I didn't know you could play a guitar." Elizabeth told him.

"I didn't know he could sing!" Stiles grinned, pointing at his father.

The two brothers exchanged amused glances, Jack tilting his head to the other. _Wanna do another?_

"_Homeward Bound_?" The older man asked.

He nodded in response, taking up the tune of the song on his guitar. Jacob took up the words.

"_Our anchor we'll weigh,  
And our sails we will set.  
Goodbye, fare-ye-well,  
Goodbye, fare-ye-well.  
The friends we are leaving,  
We leave with regret,  
Hurrah, my boys, we're homeward bound._

_We're homeward bound,  
Oh joyful sound!  
Goodbye, fare-ye-well,  
Goodbye, fare-ye-well.  
Come rally the capstan,  
And run quick around.  
Hurrah, my boys, we're homeward bound._

_We're homeward bound  
We'd have you know  
Goodbye, fare-ye-well,  
Goodbye, fare-ye-well.  
And over the water  
To England must go,  
Hurrah, my boys, we're homeward bound._

_Heave with a will,  
And heave long and strong,  
Goodbye, fare-ye-well,  
Goodbye, fare-ye-well.  
Sing a good chorus  
For 'tis a good song.  
Hurrah, my boys, we're homeward bound._

_Hurrah! that good run  
Brought the anchor a-weigh,  
Goodbye, fare-ye-well,  
Goodbye, fare-ye-well.  
She's up to the hawse,  
Sing before we belay.  
Hurrah, my boys, we're homeward bound._

_'We're homeward bound,'  
You've heard us say,  
Goodbye, fare-ye-well,  
Goodbye, fare-ye-well.  
Hook on the cat fall then,  
And rut her away.  
Hurrah, my boys, we're homeward bound._"

"Your memory doesn't fail you, my brother." Lord Karver praised, smiling lightly.

_Neither does yours. _Jack shrugged back, setting the guitar back down where he'd found it.

*X*

The day had gone by rather peacefully, much to Jack's liking. He'd seen enough action as of lately. It was now dark, and he sat alone in his assigned room, back propped against the headboard of the bed. He knew he should rest, but he couldn't bring himself to. Whether it was the fear of nightmares or the fact that he was now alone for the first time in over a week, he didn't know.

But either way, he needed rest. That he knew.

His thoughts began to wander, but he forced them further into the past than of recent events. He forced himself to remember the first day he stepped foot in Port Royal- when he met Elizabeth.

_He'd just finished telling the two soldiers his story of becoming the Pelegostos' chief. A loud splash had been heard in the water, both him and the soldiers turning to look._

"_ELIZABETH!" Norrington's cry had come from the top of the fort._

_Jack, knowing that the Navy men would never make it in time, rowed them back to the _Interceptor, _and turned to one of the two soldiers._

"_Will ye be savin' her then?"_

"_I can't swim."_

_The other man also shook his head, rather quickly too._

"_Pride of the king's Navy ye are." He'd muttered, stripping himself of his effects and shoving them into the arms of the two men. "Do not lose these."_

_Then he'd climbed onto the railing of the ship and promptly dived- rather gracefully- into the water. He saw the form of the woman below him, putting all his efforts into reaching her. He did, wrapping his arms around her body and pushing off the ocean floor with his feet, propelling them upwards._

_They'd reached the surface, but something was weighing them down. Gasping in air quickly, Jack felt himself get pulled back into the depths. _Her dress. _He instantly thought, tearing the fine material from her body and leaving her in her undergarments. Once that was done, reaching to the surface and staying there was significantly easier. He made his way to the docks, where the two Navy men assisted in heaving the young woman onto dry land._

"_Not breathing." The dark haired of the two soldiers worried._

"_Move!" The pirate ordered, pushing past him._

_He drew a dagger, cutting the ties of her corset. Instantly, she regained consciousness, coughing and sputtering._

"_Never would've thought of that." The soldier commented._

"_Clearly ye've never been to Singapore." He shot back. He glanced back at her, studying her. Then a glint of gold caught his eye. He reached down, only to find that he held nothing but one of the pieces of cursed Aztec gold. His eyes met hers. "Where did ye get that?"_

_Footsteps sounded on the wooden planking and a sword appeared at his throat._

"_On your feet!" It was no one other than Norrington, followed by his men and the governor._

_Governor Swann wrapped a coat around Elizabeth, pulling her close. She assured him that she was fine. He glared at one of the two dimwitted soldiers, who held the corset Jack had handed to him. He dropped it, pointing in his direction._

"_Shoot him!" The governor exclaimed._

"_Father!" Elizabeth argued. "Commodore, do you really intend to kill my rescuer?"_

_The pirate, now standing, nodded appreciatively toward her._

"_I believe thanks are in order." Norrington held his hand out._

Jack, still in the land of memories, drifted off into sleep.


	9. Ch8: The Lady Rose

**Disclaimer: Me owning Pirates of the Caribbean? Yeah, right. You got the wrong person. Only things I own are Wilford Hampton, Stiles Karver, Lord Jacob Karver, John Porter the doctor, and the **_**HMS Lady Rose.**_

**Chapter 8:**

"Would it hurt his health if we were to set sail tomorrow?" Norrington asked the man he'd assigned Sparrow's personal doctor. It'd been a week since the pirate's arrival in Port Royal.

"It wouldn't kill him." The doctor, a kind man, responded. "The fresh air might brighten his spirits. The sea's his home, after all. But it won't help the physical healing go any faster."

"Very well. Thank you, Mr. Porter." He thought for a moment. "Would it be alright if you were to join us on the voyage?"

"Of course, sir." John Porter responded.

*X*

The voyage had been underway for four days. They'd taken the _HMS Dauntless_. Jack had never been happier to be on the move. The sooner they got to their destination, the sooner he'd be able to speak and see properly again. Or so he hoped.

The stab wound in his leg had been stitched up, as well as the worst of the lashes on his back and the knife wound in his cheek. The stitches irritated his skin and he'd scratch them if every time he was caught doing it he wasn't scolded. The other wounds were slowly healing, the dark bruises marking most of his skin slowly fading.

His tongue, too, had a thicker layer of new tissue over it and didn't hurt as much upon contact with anything. On occasion, he even attempted to actually talk in conversations, but often his words were too distorted to distinguish. Unfortunately, there wasn't much he could do about that issue.

Elizabeth, her father, Jacob, Stiles, and even Will had joined them on the voyage. He was rarely alone. Even Norrington took care to stop by every now and then. The others seemed to know that his dark pit grew when he had more time to think about Hampton and what he'd done.

When he was free of conversation or alone, he indeed felt his fear and various other bitter feelings rise up. As he grew used to the luxury and care of the others, a new one developed; anger. He was angry at the pity he received; he was even more angry with Hampton for what he had done. One could call it hatred and a yearning for vengeance.

"Jack." Will's voice snapped him back to reality. He turned to look at him through his good eye. "You were drifting again."

The pirate captain sighed, slurring out a mumbled,"Sorry."

"It's not your fault, Jack." The blacksmith pointed out. "You can't help it."

Jack felt a sudden pulse of anger. His jaw set and his eye narrowed. _I'm not helpless! You try the whole get-tortured-thing and tell me how _you _feel!_

"Are you alright? What did I say wrong?" The younger man noticed his companion's agitation.

"I'm _not _helpless!" He snarled, voice clearer than ever since he'd lost his tongue. "Stop actin' like I am!"

The pirate captain leapt to his feet and stormed out of his cabin. He ignored the looks the others gave him as he crossed the ship to the bow and leaned on the gunwale. His arms dangled over the water, giving off a relaxed look. The air around him- and on the entirety of the deck- was rather tense, however. The fact that his jaw was clenched tightly shut proved it.

The men on the _Dauntless _quickly went back to their duties, ignoring the interruption.

"Jack." Elizabeth approached him. "You know Will was only trying to help."

"I don't _need _help." He growled tersely.

She sighed, taking up a position on his right. "I'm sure you don't, but there's no harm in it."

Jack gave a grunt, begrudgingly giving in. He allowed his jaw to loosen and his shoulders to sag.

"SAIL HO!" Someone shouted without warning.

The pirate captain flinched, heart skipping a few beats, and his teeth snapped together- would've crushed his tongue if it was still in one piece. For once, he was thankful it wasn't.

"You're alright, Jack." Elizabeth assured him, rubbing his arm gently. "You're alright."

He allowed himself to breathe again, sighing raggedly. He and Elizabeth exchanged glances when Commodore Norrington ordered his men to their battle stations. The man himself approached them within another minute.

"Sparrow, you should return to your cabin immediately. Elizabeth, please accompany him." Norrington ordered.

"Why?" Jack asked, almost boldly. "What ship is it?"

The other man stayed silent.

The answer- or rather, lack of answer- told the pirate all he needed to know. He paled, legs weak. His voice was a slurred whisper. "The _Lady Rose_."

Elizabeth moved closer to him, hoping it'd comfort him. She spoke directly to the Commodore. "Do you think they'll attack us?"

"They were preparing their cannons when I looked through my spyglass,"was the reply.

Jack's heart pounded in his chest, wanting to burst free. He spoke up anyway. "I want to fight."

Norrington gaped at him for a moment. "You're sure?"

_Absolutely positive, mate. This is my chance for revenge. _He nodded.

"Very well." He agreed. Then he called to Will,"Mr. Turner, fetch Sparrow a sword!"

_You're going to wish you never found the _Black Pearl_, Hampton._

*X*

The _Dauntless _shook under another blast from the _Lady Rose_'s cannons. Smoke filled the air from the previous shots. Norrington's ship held up, taking minimum damage. Jack had crouched on the deck, out of the way. His eyes were wide in fear, his hands were covering his ears. This battle reminded him too much of the one he was captured in.

"They're boarding!" Someone shouted above the screams, cannonfire, and splintering wood.

Sure enough, the pirate captain could see men swinging across the gap of the two ships. He leapt up, drawing the sword he'd been given. He could only hope that Hampton was part of the boarding party.

It wasn't all too difficult to differentiate between Norrington's men and Hampton's. The latter's men were rather sloppily dressed, their uniforms a mess and incomplete. And some spoke with more slang than a man employed in the Royal Navy should. Jack quickly dispatched once of the first men, deafening himself to the man's cry of agony. He slashed across another's chest.

"CAPTAIN! Sparrow's here!" One of Hampton's men shouted.

He quickly killed the man, but the alert had already been sounded. His eye instinctively searched out the man he so desperately wanted to cut to pieces. His gaze locked with the arrogant Navy captain's and his lips curled back like an angry animal. _I'm going to kill you._

The pirate captain heard the _swish _of metal through air as someone swung at him from behind. He ducked, leaping up to face his attacker. Swords locked for a moment, before his slipped below the other man's and dug into the flesh of his stomach. He kicked the man back, watching him collapse. He whipped around, but Hampton had vanished into the chaos. He growled in frustration.

A foot suddenly slammed into his broken ribs and he cried out as he stumbled to regain his balance, raising his sword to block an incoming one. His free hand touched the deck and he pushed off of it to stay up. He salvaged his balance, backing his attacker up against the gunwale. His attacker didn't know it was there and toppled over it, into the waves.

_They're all idiots. _Jack smirked to himself.

Someone barged into him from the side, throwing him to the ground hard. He hissed, ribcage feeling like it'd shattered, the wind knocked out of him. He looked up into the face of Hampton himself.

A pang of fear and panic rose up inside of the pirate captain. He took a quick moment to regain himself and then the rage returned.

"Still alive then, are you, Sparrow?"

"_Ye _won't be for much longer."

The Navy captain looked more surprised at the fact that his former prisoner could talk at all than at the slur to the words. He stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, which gave the pirate all the time he needed to get up and retrieve his sword. The metal blade was pointed toward him dangerously.

"Ah, recovering well, I see." Hampton's teeth showed in a wicked grin. "If it's a fight you want…"

_Arrogant bastard._

"Oh, do shut up." Jack snarled impatiently, feeling a small pang of irony at the situation. _How the tables have turned._

The other man's grin widened.

This only further provoked the pirate's fury. He lashed out with his cutlass, slashing the air mere inches from the Navy captain's face. Yet, he seemed completely unphased by this. Unhinged hatred tore through the injured man and he attacked wildly, his fighting form long gone.

Hampton brought his own sword up to fight back. Wherever Jack struck, he was there to block it.

The Navy man's sword scored lightly across the pirate's arm. However, the injured man was too intent on killing him to pay attention to it- the only indication that he'd even _felt _it was the light gasp that escaped him. He swung again, his opponent actually missing his attempt to block, and his weapon cutting a groove on the other man's jawline. The arrogant naval captain howled in mild pain and enragement, losing his own form.

Jack noticed this and took it to his advantage. He composed himself and began to be a bit more tactful in his own movements- if only slightly so. As he fought off the angered Hampton, which he had to admit was rather easy at the moment, he pulled up emotions from the best of his memories to overcome his own current edgedness.

The _pride _of the crew of the _Barnacle_, back in his teenage years.

The _delight _of receiving the _Wicked Wench_, when he worked for the East India Trading Company.

The _satisfaction _of watching Hector Barbossa's body fall to the cavern floor on Isla de Muerta.

The _tender vulnerability_ he felt whenever Elizabeth was in his presence.

His _anger _was _gone_.

He felt rather _calm_.

The pirate captain drew himself back into reality; back to the current duel against Hampton. He straightened himself so that he stood at his full height. His opponent swung wildly at his legs, but he nimbly jumped over the sword with ease. The other man roared angrily, but the pirate himself smirked in mild amusement.

He could feel someone watching him from across the deck, but he ignored it.

With Hampton clumsy in his anger, Jack withdrew from his defensive tactics and went on the offensive. He slashed his cutlass through the air. It sliced across the other man's leg deeply. He dropped his sword, hands flying to the wound. The pirate punched him across the face with all the strength he had in his bruised hand. A sickening crunch sounded- it could've been the injured man's fist or the other man's jaw; maybe both.

The Navy captain fell to the deck, Jack's sword at his throat in an instant.

"I'll give ye a choice 'ere, mate." His slurred voice was cold, eye intense. "Ye can either surrender or I can kill ye now. What'll it be?"

"RETREAT!" Hampton shrieked, his eyes focused on something behind Jack.

"_What?!_" The pirate's brow furrowed.

The arrogant naval captain kicked Jack's feet out from under him. His upper body slammed to the deck painfully, his head screaming at the impact. He retrieved his blade from the _Dauntless_'s deck. He scrambled back to his feet, but Hampton was back aboard his own ship, his men fighting through Norrington's to get back to it.

A growl of frustration rose up in the pirate's throat. He started towards the _Lady Rose_, but something held him back. He turned to see who was, finding Norrington himself with an iron grip on his upper arm.

"Let me go." Jack demanded impatiently, glancing back at Hampton.

"You're not leaving the ship, Sparrow." The Commodore told him.

"I 'ave to." He argued desperately. "I can't let him get away. He has to pay!"

"Now is _not _the time for revenge." The Navy man warned.

"_Now _might be the _only_ time." The pirate snarled. "Let. Me. _Go_."

"I'm sorry, Sparrow." Norrington sighed. "Have Doctor Porter check that cut on your arm, then you may return to your cabin."

"Sorry, Commodore." Jack growled, giving his arm a sudden jerk that was hard enough to pull him free. He took off across the deck, towards the _Lady Rose_.

"SPARROW! Get back here!" A furious Commodore Norrington ordered.

He ignored him, picking up speed as he raced towards the portside of the ship. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Will sprinting to intercept him. He grimaced. _Not now, whelp. Any time but now._

He slowed down slightly to leap up onto the gunwale, but his feet never touched it. Instead, the blacksmith plunged himself into the pirate's side with such force that the wind was knocked from them both. The latter let out a piercing yelp at the pain the impact caused in his ribs. The sword he'd been holding fell to the deck with a clatter. The two men followed within a moment.

Jack let out a grunt upon collision with the _Dauntless_'s deck. Even Will groaned, getting thrown off of him by the power of how hard they hit. He scrambled to his feet, coming to stand beside the man he'd intercepted. Only, the pirate laying on the deck genuinely couldn't breath.

His breath came out wheezing. His vision was spinning. He felt like the whole skeleton of his torso had been smashed. There was a piercing pain in his chest, somewhere dangerously near his heart. His head felt like it'd split, and he couldn't think. In all the pain and confusion clouding his body, panic rose up. That only caused everything to grow worse.

Several others- the pirate's vision was too blurred to recognize exactly who- swarmed around him. He could see their lips moving, but it all reached him in a blob of words. He couldn't separate anything. He tried to sit up, but something salty and metallic overflowed from his mouth and spilled down his front. He coughed, weakly collapsing to the deck. A hand cupped the blind side of his face, attempting to encourage and rouse him.

He thought he heard someone say "The _Black Pearl _is here" before the darkness consumed him and everything came to a halt.


	10. Ch9: The Storm

**Disclaimer: I am not Gore Verbinski or Jerry Bruckheimer, nor do I have any relation to Disney other than being a simple fan- like the rest of you. No, I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. I only own the following OCs: Jacob Karver, Stiles Karver, Wilford Hampton, John Porter, and the ship the **_**HMS Lady Rose**_**.**

**A/N: I apologize for the writer's block. It's just, in my five month long quarantine, I had to find other things to do as well. That and my dog passed on March 17. And then my kitten had to be put down on August 30. 2020's been a rough year. Anyhow, really happy to get this chapter up. I'm still dedicated to finish this story eventually.**

**Also, though I don't take requests, feel free to give me one-shot ideas.**

**Chapter 9:**

The world slowly came back into focus. Jack moaned, pain filling his chest. He shifted, starting to sit up, but the movement only intensified the pain. He slumped back to the bed with a grunt.

"Cap'n?" Someone asked warily.

The pirate captain twisted- causing agony in his torso- to see who was talking to him. He recognized who it was on sight and his brow furrowed in confusion. "Gibbs?" He examined his surroundings, recognizing the room to be his cabin aboard the _Black Pearl. _He relaxed. "Ah, the _Pearl_…"

"Aye." His first mate told him. "We arrived jus' as the other ship retreated."

He_ got away. And he wouldn't have if it weren't for bloody stupid Will._ He frowned in annoyance.

"The Commodore filled me in." Gibbs explained.

"What'd he tell ye? All o' it?" Jack asked quietly, words slurring.

The older man was silent for a moment, probably interpreting what he'd said. Finally, he answered. "Aye, Cap'n. All o' it."

The other man's head lowered shamefully.

"I don't think any different of ye, Jack." His first mate tried to reassure him. "An' if any o' the crew has half a mind, they won't speak 'gainst ye either."

_I know. _The pirate nodded thoughtfully, a quiet half-joking "I'm gonna kill William" escaping him.

Gibbs smiled softly at the remark, shaking his head. "Sure ye will."

Jack forced himself into a sitting position, gritting his teeth against the pain in his ribs and back. He swung his feet over the side of the bed and got up. He slipped on a pair of his own boots- not ones borrowed from Norrington's men- and pulled a shirt over his shoulders. His last one must've been taken off to examine his ribs after Will unintentionally knocked him out. He put on the rest of his effects, weapons and hat too, stopping at his desk.

"**So what's new on the medical bill then?" **He wrote it on a scrap of parchment, knowing none of it would make sense had he attempted to actually say it.

"Your ribs are worse." His first mate replied.

_Well, duh. _He raised an eyebrow. _Tell me something _new_, mate._

"One o' 'em punctured a lung."

"Really?"

"Aye." Gibbs nodded. "They had to operate on ye."

Jack's hand went up to the exposed part of his chest, feeling for stitches. He found them and traced them for a moment, frowning. _That explains why I couldn't breathe. And the blood. Maybe I _will _kill Turner. _He didn't mean it.

"**Tell me they at least saved the lung."**

"They did, Cap'n." The older man assured him.

"Good." He grunted. _Norrington's got me one bloody good doctor._

The _Pearl_'s captain limped toward the door of his cabin.

"Jack?"

"Aye?" He shot the other man a quizzical look.

"Ye alright?" Gibbs asked, concerned.

Jack shrugged. "Nothin' some rum won't fix."

*X*

Elizabeth watched from the portside railing of the _Dauntless _as Jack emerged onto the _Black Pearl_'s deck, rum bottle in hand and Gibbs not far behind. He was dressed as he normally would be, trying to keep his head up and acting like nothing had happened. His men called greetings to him from their stations, but he ignored them. He simply made his way to the helm of his ship, gripping the wood of the wheel in one hand as he took a swig of his drink.

She smiled softly at his attempt to act like himself. A voice from behind startled her.

"Do you fancy him, Elizabeth?" It was her father.

"Is it obvious?" She asked back, unable to lie to him.

He smiled fondly, coming to stand beside her. "Sometimes."

"Yes." She finally said, hiding a blush. "I know you're not fond of pirates, but I really do care for him."

"Mr. Sparrow's alright, for a pirate." The governor gave his approval. "He needs you to be there for him, you know."

"I know." Elizabeth assured him. "Thank you for understanding, Father."

"Whatever makes you happy, my dear." Her father replied.

Father and daughter silently watched the pirate captain. He seemed rather calm from afar, but Elizabeth knew otherwise. Jack Sparrow never stood that still unless something was bothering him. A shout came from behind him, making him jump and turn to glare at two of his men, who were arguing. They apologized and headed down to the main deck. His eyes followed them the whole way.

"How long do you think it'll take him to recover?" Elizabeth wondered aloud.

"He may never fully recover. Most don't after something like this." Governor Swann pointed out.

"He has improved." Commodore Norrington told them as he approached. "When he first arrived in my office, he didn't want anything to do with me. He seemed ready to give up. Just the name of Captain Hampton made him slip into memories of his voyage to Port Royal. But, during the battle with the _Lady Rose_, he disobeyed my orders out of anger and his desire for vengeance. I don't think he'll fully recover, however, in time, he'll be alright. Sparrow's spirit is strong, he's bound to bounce back most of the way, however long it takes."

The governor's daughter had to smile. _And James wanted to see Jack swing from the gallows just a few months ago…_

*X*

"Cap'n!" A shout came from the crow's nest of the _Pearl_.

Jack's head snapped up in the direction of the sound. He spotted Marty, who was pointing out beyond the bow of the ship. The captain slowly pulled out his spyglass, peering through it in the course of the other man's arm. He grimaced at what he saw.

Dark gray and black clouds were gathered not too far away. He could just make out rain falling and could hear the crackling of thunder. The sea began to grow choppy beneath the two vessels. It was a storm. He couldn't see a way to avoid it. _And I just woke up._

"Master Gibbs!" Jack called.

The first mate raced up to the helm. "Orders, sir?"

"Secure the cannons. Move anythin' else below. The crew too." He commanded, his voice surprisingly coherent with so many words. "Signal the _Dauntless _an' fetch me a rope."

"Aye, Cap'n." Gibbs hurried to the starboard rail and shouted over to the other ship. "STORM AHEAD!"

The pirate captain flinched.

"_YOU DON'T DESERVE TO LIVE!" Hampton screamed at him on the second day of the voyage._

"Not so loud." He snapped at the older man, who made his way down the stairs to the main deck.

"Sorry, Jack." Gibbs apologized, keeping his voice a level lower as he relayed orders to the crew. "Secure the cannons! Move the rest below!"

The first mate disappeared below deck for a long moment. When he came up, he held a cut length of rope. He climbed up the stairs to hand it to Jack.

"Ye're sure, Jack? I can do it if ye want." He offered.

"Ye did it last time, mate. 'S my turn." Jack told him, taking the rope, handing him his rum bottle and hat in replacement. "Go below deck with the rest o' the crew when they're ready."

"Aye, Cap'n." Gibbs nodded obediently, turning to go down and assist in the preparations. "May Lady Luck be with ye."

"I'll need 'er." He agreed.

His first mate continued down the stairs. The pirate captain wrapped the rope around his waist rather tightly- which he regretted as soon as it pushed on his bruises- and tied it off. He tied the other end to the wheel itself. The storm wasn't going to pull him overboard, but he'd definitely have some more bruises and some rope burns. He was sure of that.

He turned to look back at the _Dauntless_. Neither the Swanns, the Karvers, or Turner remained in sight. _Gone in to avoid the storm_, he knew. He could see Norrington's men working furiously to move cargo below deck and tighten down everything that needed tightening. One of the men- he recognized him as Lieutenant Groves- had tied himself to the wheel of the grander ship. The pirate found it slightly amusing that by the time the storm was up, that uniform wouldn't look so nice and spiffy.

*X*

Jack grunted as he hit the slippery wet planking of the deck below him for what left like the hundredth time. He really should've cut the rope shorter before they'd entered the thunderstorm. At least it was short enough so that he wouldn't be carried over the ship's railing. The rope burns that he'd sustained made his bruised waist sting. His ribs pounded, begging him to take a break. But he got up again anyway; he had to.

He gripped the _Pearl_'s wheel tightly, turning the ship alongside the _Dauntless _as they turned to ride up a wave. The two ships pitched violently, but continued onwards. He glanced to Groves, smirking to himself as he saw the man's sopping wet uniform.

The dark Caribbean sky flashed as a lightning bolt formed. The top of the _Pearl_'s mainmast lit up orange, a loud resounding crack echoing through the air. The fire quickly spread to the sails and Jack grew worried.

And then Gibbs's head popped up from below deck. The first mate spotted the flames, glancing back to his captain in horror. "Orders, sir?!"

"Get some men up there!" He called back, readjusting his grip on the wooden spokes of the wheel.

The older man disappeared below deck again and moments later, four other men climbed out onto the wet wooden planks. They darted for the rigging, beginning to climb up as fast as they could.

Jack could see some of Norrington's men working to reinforce the _Dauntless_'s bowsprit and reattach the foresails. As the ships turned into another wave, he could see a couple men go over the other ship's railing with cries of alarm.

Another bolt of lightning lit up the sky and the pirate captain faintly heard a scream as a disoriented sailor fell off the mast. He flinched backward when he saw a body slam to the deck, the splat of flesh and crunch of bones audible over the noise of the storm.

Jack shouldn't have been so horrified; accidents like this happened all the time on ships- he'd even witnessed similar situations several times. But this time was different. The scene reminded him of the torture chamber aboard the _Lady Rose_; the blood and the bones.

He stumbled back from the wheel, forgetting he was tied to it. It began spinning on its own accord, spokes tearing through the air and striking his hands painfully as they passed. He realized what was happening too late; that the ship was turning with the wave. He was thrown sideways as water swamped the deck. He lost his footing. His head hit the deck rather forcefully and he squeezed his eyes shut in agony. To his distress, the image of Hampton appeared before him.

Jack's eyes snapped open, his brain scrambled in blind panic. His chest heaved, his memories were brought before his eyes. On the empty deck, he was reliving the first loss against Hampton's crew, when he'd been captured. The body that had fallen from the rigging had been washed overboard, leaving a dark stain in the planks of the deck.

Feeling trapped by the rope around his waist, the pirate captain clawed at it, trying to free himself. But as the _Pearl _pitched with the waves and water constantly flooded the deck, all he accomplished was getting the rope to skim painfully against his hands and jerked around as the ship moved.

Suddenly Gibbs was at his side. The older man- Jack's childhood mentor- put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. He gently moved the distressed pirate's hands away from the rope, his own replacing them to skillfully untie the knot. The younger man allowed his first mate to move him away from the helm and haul him to his feet. Cotton had taken his place at the wheel in an instant, tying himself to it and quickly working to steer the ship back on course with the _Dauntless_.

Jack was in a numb daze as Gibbs led him back to his cabin. The sounds of the storm muffled when the doors closed, making the younger man's panicked breathing more audible. As the other man lit a few candles, Jack dropped feebly into the chair beside his desk. His arms dangled limply beside him.

He vaguely heard Gibbs saying his name a few times, trying to get his attention. He didn't move. He was taken aback in surprise, snapped from his unpleasant reverie when the other man splashed a bottle of rum in his face. He blinked the liquid from his eyes, frowning as he glanced to his first mate.

The mutton-chopped pirate looked more than a little concerned. "Ye alright?"

Jack let out a ragged sigh before nodding.

"Ye want to talk 'bout it?"

He quickly shook his head. _No, definitely not._

"Ye gonna be alright if I go back on deck?" Gibbs asked him.

Another nod.

The older man nodded back, beginning to go to the door.

Jack found his voice and called an afterthought to him. "Make a note to check on the sails; the mainmast was on fire."

"I'll keep it in mind, Cap'n." He assured him. "Rest easy."

And then Jack was alone again.


	11. Ch10: The Struggles of a Broken Man

**Disclaimer: Refer to the last chapter because I'm too lazy to write it out. Being the typical teenager I am, this chapter will be like 2000 words anyway and the disclaimer will still be this.**

**Chapter 10:**

Jack didn't sleep; not at all. The storm lasted late into the night, the clouds clearing not long before dawn. The sky was a bright pink. It almost hurt to look at it, but he did anyway.

_The torture chamber smelled of death and decay. Looked like it too. It was almost pitch black, save a few candles. The walls, floor, and ceiling were stained red with the blood of past victims. Rotting bodies sat in the darkened corners, out of the way, flies buzzing around them. A wooden table occupied the center of the room, various other devices scattered about. There were chains hanging from the ceiling to the right of the table, matching chains resting on the floor. _

He recalled various words and events from the first day in that room.

"_You'll be in so much pain when we're done, Sparrow, that you'll wish we'd killed you anyway."_

"_An' seein' as I refuse to be tortured, we're at a stalemate, mate."_

"_Shoot him, you idiots!" Hampton bellowed._

"_I thought ye _weren't_ goin' to kill me!" Jack called to him, whilst dodging musket shots._

_The pirate didn't notice the executioner approaching him. As he turned to his right, his face was met hard with the flat of the axe blade. He was thrown onto his back, vision spotted with black spots, groaning. He attempted to get back up, but found himself too disoriented to do so properly._

"_Start with the cat o' nine."_

Crack! Crack! Crack!

_He stayed silent, unwilling to give in. He could feel the heat in his raw back, and he could see the blood pool beneath him on the wood. He didn't hear the order for the executioner to switch to a steel pipe. He felt it collide with his back, jolting his whole body forward. It hit repeatedly, and he was sure that if anything of his back remained that it would be bruised beyond recognition._

_All of Jack's senses were numb by the time his face collided with the pool of his own blood on the floor. He lay there for a few minutes. He could not feel anything, the pain beyond being painful now. He weakly used his arms to support his upper body, his right moving up to wipe blood from the side of his face that had been lying on the floor._

"_Your spirit doesn't break as easily as your body, does it?" Hampton frowned._

There was a knock on the cabin door. It snapped Jack from his memories, back into reality. He sighed heavily, lifting his hanging, bruised head as he got up from his chair. He limped over to the wooden door, his weak hand opening it. He was met with the sight of Elizabeth.

"Hey, Jack." She greeted with a small, concerned smile. "How are you feeling?"

He cleared his throat. "'M alright."

"You were remembering again." The young woman observed sadly. "I can see it in your face."

Jack gave a small nod. "I can't stay busy enough. Or focused enough."

"Why don't you practice sword fighting with Will?" She suggested helpfully.

He quickly shook his head, remembering the agony in his torso and the taste of blood in his mouth from the last time he'd encountered the blacksmith.

"Jack, Will isn't going to hurt you."

The pirate shot her a skeptical look.

"I won't let him hurt you. I'll watch and make sure everything goes well." Elizabeth assured him. "He didn't mean to injure you when he stopped you from boarding Hampton's ship."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Alright." It took him a moment before he finally nodded in reluctant agreement. "Alright. Where is he then?"

"He's in the crow's nest aboard the _Dauntless_. I'll go get him." She answered.

"Ye're goin' up there?" He slurred, surprised.

"It can't be nearly as bad as fighting cursed pirates." Elizabeth countered, over her shoulder, as she headed for the gangplank between the two ships.

"Right...I'll catch ye when ye fall then." Jack retorted good-humouredly.

"One: I am _not _going to fall. Two: You are in no condition to catch _anyone_." She snapped, not catching the mischievous tone in his distorted voice.

He remained silent, amusedly waiting for her to turn around.

"Jack?" She sounded regretfully, stopping to look back at him.

She was met by his white and gold grin. "Lighten up, love. I still have _some _sense of humor."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but couldn't stop a smile from creeping up on her face. She gestured to the _Dauntless_. "Come on, Jack."

He followed her to and across the gangplank, watching as she began climbing the ratlines to the crow's nest. A faint smile played across his lips. _Hardly ever see a woman with guts._

Jack watched her from the main deck. He could tell when she was uncertain and when she was petrified, but he felt a certain respect towards her as she continued climbing up towards Will. _That's why you love her._

The pirate reluctantly tore his gaze away when he heard footsteps approaching him. He turned to his right to face Commodore Norrington.

"Come to lecture me on followin' orders?" He wondered aloud.

"No." Norrington replied calmly.

"Oh, good." Jack commented. "I wouldn't listen to ye if ye did."

"Precisely why I've decided not to bother trying."

"Ah."

The Commodore's voice had lowered when he spoke again. "How've you been feeling?"

The pirate frowned thoughtfully. "Well...I've been in worse situations, I reckon. Guess I'm jus' bloody lucky ye're helpin' me, mate. I don't know where I'd be if ye weren't."

"And to think I was intent on hunting you down just a few months ago." He shook his head.

Jack snorted softly, his lips curling upwards ever so slightly. "Feels like ages ago, doesn't it?"

"Yes."

The unlikely pair fell silent, listening to the sounds of the waves against the hulls of the ships and the shouts of crewmen working. There were few clouds in the sky and the breeze was taking the edge off of the Caribbean heat. The waves were gentle, making for smooth sailing after the time lost in the storm the previous night.

Glancing at the _Pearl_, Jack could see men patching up the burned sail and others replacing the section of charred wood that made up the top of the mainmast. Gibbs and Cotton were tightening the various ropes on the main deck, making sure everything was secure.

All was well, for the moment.

*X*

Elizabeth hefted herself up to the lip of the crow's nest, never feeling happier to touch the wooden planking. Will stood where she'd last seen him, turned away from her, gazing out over the gentle waves of the sea.

"Will?" She called as she climbed fully into the crow's nest.

"Elizabeth." He greeted, turning to face her. "What are you doing up here?"

"Jack needs something to do." She explained. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind sword fighting with him."

"Of course. I was getting rather bored of sitting up here anyway." The blacksmith agreed. "How is he?"

"He's scared of you, Will."

"Scared of _me_? Why?"

"I think he keeps associating the pain from when he passed out with your face." Elizabeth told him.

"Doesn't he know that I didn't mean to hurt him?" Will asked, frowning.

"He knows he shouldn't be scared of you, but he can't not be scared." She nodded. "I've hardly seen him even remotely relaxed since I first saw him in Port Royal. He's scared of _everything_, Will. Everything except me."

He nodded slowly. "I guess he has a good reason to be, given what happened to him before he was brought to Norrington."

*X*

Jack was leaning against the portside gunwale when Will and Elizabeth finally reached the main deck and came over to him. He watched the blacksmith warily, still unsure of him despite Elizabeth's claims and reassurance.

"I was wonderin' if ye'd ever get 'ere." The pirate commented, fingering the hilt of the sword at his side patiently.

"If I'd have gone any faster, I fear I'd have fallen off." She explained.

"Like I said, I would've caught ye if ye did." Jack reminded her, his lips curling upward slightly.

"Yes, but that would hurt you." Elizabeth pointed out.

"It's the thought that counts." He slurred with a shrug, giving a nod to Will.

"Are you ready, Jack?" The blacksmith asked.

He merely nodded, unable to fight off a wave of uncertainty.

The pair moved towards the center of the deck, where neither one of them could be pinned up against anything. Then they drew their swords, Will extending his out like he had during their first duel. Jack held his against it for a moment, the memory of their first encounter flashing before him.

"No cheating." Will warned, likely remembering the same memory.

A ghost of a smirk flickered over the pirate's lips briefly.

"_You cheated." The blacksmith frowned, holding up a bar that would be of no use against the pistol pointed at his face._

"_Pirate." Jack retorted easily._

He quickly withdrew his blade, blocking Will's attack as he struck against him. They traded blows for a quick moment, before Jack was forced backwards. He parried one last attack, taking a couple paces forward.

"_Ye know what ye're doin', I'll give ye that. Excellent form. But how's your footwork?"_

"Your footwork still good?"

"Never better." Will assured him.

They slowly started circling to the right, trading strikes as they did. It wasn't long before they were each in the opposite position of the last. Jack unintentionally took a step back, flinching as he saw Will's arm begin to move into a throwing position. But the blacksmith noticed his error and repositioned his weapon before him instead.

Jack blinked, but Will had disappeared. Rapid footsteps approaching him on his left made the pirate raise his sword before his body, hearing his opponent's weapon clash against it. He fought off a wave of panic, unable to turn to get Will in his vision between the flurry of blows. Before he knew it, his sword had been thrown from his hand and he could sense a blade pointing at his throat.

There was the clatter of metal hitting the deck.

"I...er...that was my blind side." He stammered quietly, glancing between the weapon on the wooden planking and his empty hand.

Will was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry, Jack. I should have remembered."

The pirate felt Elizabeth grab onto his left arm supportively, to let him know that no harm had been meant and that he was alright. He sighed, lowering his head.

*X*

"_Y'know, ye need me alive to get the reward for capturin' me, right?" Jack reminded them, anxiety getting the best of him._

"_Makes it all the more fun. You'll be in so much pain when we're done, Sparrow, that you'll wish we'd killed you anyway." The Navy captain told him._

Crack! Crack! Crack!

_Pain flowed through his back. Though he could see his blood pooling on the planks beneath him, he didn't make a sound. The cool, round shape of a metal pipe hit him next, jolting him forward. If he had any skin left, it would certainly be bruised._

"_The boy is next." Hampton told the executioner._

"_Ye are not touchin' that boy!" A burst of rage ignited in Jack._

_They briefly dueled, before the pirate's weapon was knocked from his hand and onto his foot. A knee slammed into his side, bowling him over._

_Hampton towered over him, sneering. "You are going to defend the boy? Really, Sparrow? You can't even fight for yourself."_

_Jack spat out an insult as he attempted to get up._

_The other man kicked him angrily, knocking the wind out of him. "You wouldn't be able to fight off my whole crew for that boy even if you were in your best condition! You're weak! The whole lot of your kind are! You think you're strong enough to disobey the world's laws, so you make your own that contradict ours, then you wonder why we punish you! Weak and foolish! There's a reason we hang the lot of you; there's only room for the strong men in this world. You're not built for this world, Sparrow!"_

_And then he broke, his English accent showing through. "THEN WHY HAVEN'T YOU KILLED ME YET?! Better yet, shoot yourself! That's one less person for the law followers to worry about!"_

_Hampton snapped. "SHUT UP, YOU FILTHY PIRATE!"_

_A foot slammed into the pirate's stomach with such force that it was sure to leave a nasty bruise. He cried out in pain properly for the first time since being brought down into the torture chamber, curling in on himself for protection. He found himself begging to make a compromise with his captor._

_In return, a knife was drawn. _

"_No. No, no, no, no. No! GET AWAY FROM ME!" The last few words turned into a snarl as his captor advanced on him._

_Jack's head was banged against the floor until he went blind in his left eye and his mouth opened for air. Arms pinned to the planks above his head, the knife was thrust between his teeth, tearing the end of his tongue off, going on to plunge through his cheek. When released, he spat out the chunk of flesh that had been part of his tongue, finding himself unable to speak. Blood streaming down his face, he slowly lifted his head to look at Hampton._

_He couldn't talk his way out of this anymore._

_Hampton's harsh laugh filled the air and sent a chill down his prisoner's spine. He began untying his breeches, the words "You hurt mine, now I'm going to hurt yours" embedding themselves in the pirate's memory forever._

"No!" Jack cried, snapping awake, sitting bolt upright.

Pain flew through his ribs and back at the sudden movement. He was left gasping for breath, trying to gain some semblance of self control.

Movement caught his eye and he froze. He could make out his guard for the night- someone in a navy uniform- approaching him. A new wave of fear rose up at the sight of the uniform. He needed this person out. He didn't care who it was, they needed to leave.

The approaching man began to speak. "Sparrow-"

"Get out." Jack ordered, voice shaking uncontrollably.

The man stopped in his steps, but didn't leave. He seemed uncertain of what to do. "Are you alright?"

"Get out." The pirate repeated desperately, reaching for something- anything- he could throw. When the figure stayed put, he found himself doing anything he could to get him to leave; screaming; throwing anything he could get his hands on. "GET OUT! Get out, get out, get out! GET OUT! GO AWAY! GET!"

The uniformed man did as told, leaving the door open as he called for backup above Jack's panicked screams. "ELIZABETH!"

Jack, slowly realizing the man had left the cabin, curled up on what was left of the bed that he hadn't thrown. He wrapped his arms around his knees, closing his eyes tightly as he buried his face in them. His eyes were moist, but he didn't cry. He fought to control his wheezing breaths.

He heard quick footsteps enter, but he didn't move. Through his eyelid, he could see the light of a candle fill the darkness. He felt a weight on the bed beside him, could feel smooth arms wrap around him comfortingly.

"You're alright, Jack. You're alright." Elizabeth murmured. "You're safe."

He didn't reply.

"Look at me." She gently grabbed a hold of his chin.

He resisted.

"Jack, please."

The pirate sighed heavily, opening his eye and slowly withdrawing from himself. His voice was a whisper. "'M sorry."

"It's alright, Jack. Commodore Norrington's fine."


End file.
